


Junjou Restart

by sichada



Category: Junjou Romantica
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, trigger warning: brief mention of child molestation, trigger warning: suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:18:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 44,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9319322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sichada/pseuds/sichada
Summary: Faced with yet another depression bout, Ijuuin-sensei finds himself struggling with his manga without Misaki around the office. When he meets the stoic Haruhiko by chance, everything slowly seems to turn around for the better, but not without its ups and downs. After all, these two had managed to fall in love with the same boy.Trigger warning: brief mention of child molestation (past), mention of suicide





	1. Act 1:1 Spring will Come Again

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 1

Spring will Come Again

            I tried to ignore it, that creeping sense of reality every time something new came my way. Yet after some time, life became routine, and it’s the most vicious cycle of all—even more vicious than the pattern of writer’s block and deadlines that have become my very existence.

            All I can do for now is feel the carpal tunnel in my hand get worse as I keep drawing the outlines for a new chapter that I can already feel losing a sense of direction, just as I can already feel the first round of sleepless nights coming on. The routine is so ingrained into my head at this point that I see it in my dreams when I nod off mid pen stroke, ruffled hair and shaggy beard becoming more mismanaged each time I awaken.

            And then just as I expect it, the other dream intrudes my day. His face enters my dreams, and I can already hear his encouraging words float around in my mind as he approaches me with his soft face and bright smile—beautiful as the day I first saw it.

            _“Sensei, you can do it! I’m rooting for you.”_

_“I’m always looking forward to your work.”_

_“I adore you!”_

Once again I reach out for him to hold his body in an embrace, desiring the warmth of his skin against mine—

            “Ah, Sensei! Still working as hard as ever, I see.”

            As usual, the dream dies when my boss, the notorious Ryuuichiro Isaka, greets me.

I could barely see him through the long strands of hair in my face, but I could hear his irritable voice in the room.

            “Just wanted to check up on you and see how you’re doing with that writer’s block of yours,” he said, getting a little too close to my desk as he glanced over the papers sprawled about.

            I never appreciated when he got too close in my space, but somehow, he was the only person not afraid to talk to me when I was in my worst funks, it seemed.

            Usually these visits were where he tried to encourage me, and even help me out with ideas once in a while as one of his favorite (or at least best selling) mangaka. His never wavering tone didn’t give way for what he was about to tell me.

            “So, I’ve had a discussion with some of the editors, and I think it’s about time we have a little talk.” Of course he chose now, when my assistants weren’t with me.

            I glowered at him a little, as I’m basically forced to drop my pen. “Is this about the book signing next month?”

            “Well, in a way, yes—as I assume you haven’t done that new character sketch we wanted to hand out at the signing, right?”

            I sighed. “Go on.”

            “Well, we’ve noticed a slight decrease in…quality for the past 6 months or so,” he said.

            My stomach dropped a little, as I had a feeling about where he was going with this. “Isaka-san, I assure you, I’m doing my best”—

            “I don’t mean to tell you that you’re unproductive. Far from it. In fact, this is the hardest I’ve seen you try to meet your deadlines,” said Isaka.

            “Then what exactly is the problem?” I asked.

            “Well, we’ve kind of realized that sales have been lower than usual,” he said, “I can see why, as the content feels a little more…bland? Like it doesn’t seek the ambition it used to, and even the jokes feel a little stale and out of place at times.”

            “So what, am I cancelled now?” I asked.

            “No, of course not! We’re just worried about you is all, as you’ve always been one of our best. You just seem quite burned out as of late.”

            “I can assure you, I’m fine,” I replied.

            Isaka took a deep breath. “All we’re suggesting is a short 3-day trip—something to maybe even inspire you. You’re not even finished with the outline yet, right? I imagine you’re struggling.”

            I stayed silent. There was no way to deny it any longer. After all, they were actually offering me a small break.

            “…I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to do a little sight-seeing,” I finally admitted. “It’s about time I brought out that camera again.”

            Isaka was beaming with pride. “Wonderful! If I may make a recommendation, if you don’t feel like travelling too far to waste your little vacation, there’s a new museum opened up around here—beautiful too. If I recall, it was actually an old museum redone recently.”

            My first thought was to tell him to get out of my work space, as he was over staying his welcome—the second actually entertained the thought of going somewhere new for inspiration.

The last time I had went on a trip was nearly a year ago at that diner in Kamakura. That was where I saw him and he finally rejected formally— ** _the man who said he adored me and was so starry eyed in my presence, I was easily blinded into thinking we were meant to be._**

            “By the way, Sensei, one last thing before I take off.”

            My expression immediately soured. “What?”

            “I know you… _miss_ Chibi-tan, and I had decided to not bring it up as it’s only been 6 months that he was given a different placement,” he says with the most serious look I’ve ever seen him wear. “However, this is clearly interfering with your work, as well as with your well being, so I suggest you try doing something to fill the void. This isn’t good for you.”

            A part of me wants to say something, but doesn’t when he leaves me back to the empty room. **_Deep down, I know he’s right._**

            I can’t remember the last time I’d been in a museum—perhaps on a school field trip before my first and only year at university. I remember being fond of the polished linoleum floors and the hanging paintings that made me yearn to make my name as an artist.

            Older memories of asking my father to take me to every art and history exhibit flowed through my mind. Even when I was young, I knew what I had wanted in life, thinking about being an artist as he carried my weight on his shoulders.

            Now that I thought about it, this place reminded me a lot of one of the museums I had been taken to as a child. Isaka did mention that this one had been shut down for some time, and the one that came to mind was closed due to a lack of visitors. When my father told me the news, I remember I was so distraught.

            Yet I looked around, and the structure had been changed in ways to be more appealing—more rooms were added for the new material, Roman columns graced the corners, and a lot had been retouched, from the glossy flooring to the ceiling, stairs, and name plates. For a Tuesday morning, it had been quite busy, and even the employees looked happy to be there—very different from when I was here years ago.

            Even then, I wouldn’t have recognized this place if the area surrounding the building had barely changed, and if the same ad for the long-time bear mascot and statue erected outside weren’t around. I also couldn’t help but see that a lot of the same pieces had been kept, despite new collections being added.

            I sat in the dining area, camera by my side as I ate a red bean paste bun that had actually been made from scratch in the kitchen. If anything, the food was a lot better than I remember, although there was still barely any selection.

            By this point, I had already reviewed every individual piece of art. As I shoved the last of the bun in my mouth, I prepared my camera. I figured I’d take some photos of what had piqued my interest.

            As I walked around one of the newer sections, there was a group of business men dispersing in my general direction.

            To my left, I noticed a bear sculpture with three salmon. It even had a little blurb below explaining the history behind it. Part of me seriously considered making a character based off this.

            Once I got my camera ready, I heard a stern voice from behind.

            “No photography.”

            Immediately, I lowered my camera to face the source reprimanding me, dark eyes level to mine, his hidden behind pristine glasses, and mine hidden behind my hair. He was clearly one of the business men in the circle I just saw, with his suit meant to be as intimidating as his authoritative aura.

            I felt slightly embarrassed, as he sounded as if he was part of management. “Oh, I’m sorry. I haven’t done this sort of thing in a while,” I say to him, not even bothering to put on the charm with my shaggy appearance. To be fair on myself, I forgot about typical museum etiquette.

            “That’s understandable. This place holds a lot of importance for me, so I would hate to see anything fade,” he said, then mused to himself, “Perhaps I should request the staff to put up more signs around.”

            “So then while you’re here, I was wondering if this was the old museum that was around here?” I asked him.

            He seemed surprised by my response. “Yes, that’s correct.”

            “I thought so. I used to come here a lot before they closed down,” I said.

            “So did I.”

            “Interesting,” I smiled weakly, “You’ve done a wonderful job bringing the museum back to life.”

            For a moment he actually appeared flustered, breaking eye contact with me to stare at the floor. “Well, it’s not my museum. I’m only the designer.”

            “That’s important, though. This place wouldn’t have looked impressive if someone else did it.”

            He refused to look at me, and suddenly glanced at his wristwatch. “I must go. I have a meeting to attend to.”

            I wanted to ask how he could have two meetings back to back, but I decided to let him hurry away.

            **_For someone who spoke so seriously without a hint of cracking in his voice, he didn’t seem so good at masking his emotions._**

            Aside, I was also already planning a sketch of a bear with glasses and a salmon tie.

            On my way out of the museum, I spotted someone enter, the man in my dream.

            My heart raced, body tingling as I could barely hold back a big, genuine smile. Automatically, I felt myself walking over, ready to call out his name—

            “Misaki!”

            Behind the man of my dreams followed the bane of my existence.  “Please don’t rush so far ahead of me.”

            Misaki kept strolling forward until he was in my vicinity, as if stopping near me on purpose. “Usagi-san, it’s not my fault you can’t keep up. Now come on, I told you we need get out of the apartment more. It’s not good for you to stay cooped up in there.”

            “I could be cooped up with you in bed, though.”

            “Don’t say such things!”

            I looked away and kept walking, only to imagine a possible scenario where he at least recognized my face as I rushed by. Then again, the way I looked, I imagined nobody would really recognize me.

            I spent the next couple days exploring the city even further. Walking around aimlessly reminded me of the better times in college, trying to get the picture of what story I wanted to tell for the future of _The_ _Kan._

            Drawing a sketch of Kuma-dono came the easiest, and was just about ready to be prepared for next month’s book signing. So many ideas were flooding into my head that I managed to forget to shave my growing beard and cut my hair as I was ready to write down everything.

            The drawing was carefully placed on the corner of the desk when I came back to Marukawa, anticipating the arrival of Isaka to come and check up on me as I finally found more of where I wanted to take _The_ _Kan._ I was actually proud of what I had put together this time.

            After some time, as predicted, Isaka came to the entrance, but had turned his head to talk to someone outside.

            “If you’ll excuse me one moment, I just need to walk in here for a sec.” He then proceeded to shuffle inside.

            “Ah, Sensei, you’re back. How was your vacation, what did you—oh, I’m sorry, do you mind if an old friend of mine comes in?” He gives me the up and down look with a questionable expression. “You seem to be in a…better mood, but I’m not sure if I should take advantage.”

            I forced a smile. “Don’t worry, you’re not intruding at all,” I said, holding out my sketch, “Actually, you’re just in time. There was something I wanted your opinion on.”

            Isaka took a quick look at the sketch and nodded. “Good work. He looks quite interesting. I think the printers will be very happy.” He looked outside the door. “Hey, Haruhiko, don’t be shy and get in here. Check this out; he reminds me of you a little.”

            And just like that, the man from the other day managed to pop back into my life. He focused on Kuma-dono for a few moments, eyes looking back and forth between me and the paper.

            “How funny you should say that,” he finally commented after what felt like 10 long minutes.

            My face flushed. Here I was, not counting on Mr. Businessman to suddenly cross paths with me once again and see what normally would be a crude drawing to anyone if they knew they were the (albeit unintentional at first) inspiration.

            Isaka laughed at the response, patting his friend’s shoulder.

“Oh, anyway, Ijuiin-sensei, let me introduce you. This guy right here is Usami Haruhiko.”

            I didn’t realize things could manage to get worse.


	2. Act 1:2 Don't Chase What Won't Welcome You

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 2

Don’t Chase What Won’t Welcome You

            I had to do a mental double-take as Isaka kept talking.

“He’s actually Usami Akihiko’s brother. Weird, right?”

            “Half-brother,” Haruhiko mumbled.

            Isaka slapped Haruhiko’s back, laughing heartily as the other man flinched. I forced back a nervous laugh, still processing how on earth these two people could know each other—let alone already trying to digest the fact that this was the brother of the man I loathed.

            Then again, I realized that I should’ve made that connection in my head how Isaka would know to even push onto me the idea of going to that museum.

            Haruhiko shifted his glasses and examined the drawing again of Kuma-dono. “Actually, we’ve already been acquainted.”

            “Really?” Isaka glanced at me and snickered. “Okay, now you _have_ to keep him in there. I will fight to have this guy…what’s his name?”

            “Kuma-dono,” Haruhiko and I both said.

            “Kuma-dono—I’ll give him a good word for the publishers.”

            “I’d really appreciate that,” I said, then turned to Haruhiko. “That is, if it’s okay with you.”

            “Normally, I wouldn’t comply, but I feel my father would enjoy this. Not to mention, it’s oddly…satisfying, having my own caricature be in _The_ _Kan_ , no less,” Haruhiko mused.

            I blinked, unable to hide my surprise. “You know who I am?”

            “I did think you looked slightly familiar, although the pictures I’ve seen had you look more…”

            “Handsome?” I added.

            He gave me nothing back but an uncomfortably long silence, eyes diverted the other way.

            I cleared my throat, trying to reel back in the conversation. “…So then you’re a fan?”

            He shook his head. “I haven’t read manga in a long time, but I always found it intriguing. A…friend of mine is a fan of yours, though.”

            “Well, would you look at the time!” Isaka cut in, “Can’t hang around too long. We’ve got our lunch breaks, after all. Although, it’s okay if I get back a little late”—

            “Isaka,” Haruhiko warned him, “Asahina is your assistant. Don’t put it all on him.”

            “Yeah, yeah.” Isaka rolled his eyes.

            As they both were exiting the room, Isaka stopped in his tracks as if he forgot something.

 “Oh, and Ijuiin-sensei?”

I looked up as I filed away my sketch. “Yes, Isaka-san?”

 “Keep up the good work.”

            That night, I ended up having a different dream for the first time in months. Yet, this one was all too familiar.

            I was a child again riding on my father’s shoulders, in a room that resembles the void, nothingness.

            At one point, I wanted to get down, so I kept wiggling about, clearly becoming too much for him with my weight. He held me down by my legs to keep me from falling backwards.

            I use my strength to suddenly pull us both back into the void.

            And then, darkness as we fall forever.

            I’ve lost track of time, as most days are spent drawing and being in a deep sleep when possible. According to the calendar, a month had flown by, and today was the release of the next _The_ _Kan_ volume, which meant it was time for the book signing.

            It hadn’t occurred to me until getting spruced up that I hadn’t showered in a few days, nor shaved my grown stubble in over a month or so. The dark circles under my eyes did all the talking for how weak I felt.

            Part of me wished that I had passed on this, as I looked ahead at the growing crowd past my table, but I knew in order to keep my story alive, I needed the publicity.

            And maybe, just maybe, he’ll hear of my book signing and show up too—just as he had last time. Even more reason why I’m a masochist at this point, I think to myself, as once again, I’m surrounded by the men and women who’ve only seen my face when it was clean. Smiling hurts, when at one point it was cathartic to force it. I’m thankful that I somehow appeared radiant enough as each squealing fan got their copy signed.

            I think to myself how it’s such a shame. Girls are pretty, and I’ve always found them pretty. Even men could catch my eye, as clearly I have caught theirs as they gave me a subtle up and down look.

            Yet, none of them stood out so clearly as the one fan that had been there from the beginning, supporting and cheering me on consistently. All I waited on was for him to come back, constantly scanning the crowd for brown hair.

            And I got a brunette at my table eventually, expressionless as he towered before me.

            “Oh, Usami-san. What a pleasant surprise,” I said. I couldn’t help but think how it felt so odd to call him that.

            He stood there for a few moments, despite the line getting longer.

            I stared at him, but he’s clearly not making eye contact. “…Can I help you?”

            He seemed to snap out of his daze. “My apologies, I was just used to your stubble and long hair, is all.”

            I lowered my gaze. “Yeah, yeah, I get—I can’t always look professional.”

            “You’re a mangaka. I wouldn’t expect that.”

            I couldn’t tell if he was being understanding of my situation, or insulting me. “So, I take it Isaka-san sent you here?” I asked him.

            “No, my father did,” he answered.

            “Ah.” _‘So he was serious about that,’_ I mused, as I clicked my pen and got a copy of Kuma-dono ready to hand out.

            Haruhiko then proceeded to hand me two of the newest volumes.

            “Oh, a second one? Who for?”

            “This one would be mine,” he said, completely monotone.

            “Really?”

            His face soured. “I figured if my father could enjoy it, so could I. Is that an issue?”

            “No, not at all,” I said, signing both copies. “I’m just surprised is all, let alone that two of the great Usamis managed to take time out of their busy schedules to catch up on my work.”

            “It’s been a slow month for us. Even then, you find time here and there for the things you really enjoy when possible. It would be the same for mangaka, am I correct?”

            I laughed. “You’d be surprised how many people think it’s just sitting around drawing all day doing nothing.”

            “That’s quite an unfair judgment. It takes persistence and talent to be where you are now,” he remarked.

            I couldn’t help but give him a crooked grin. “Are you saying I’m talented?”

            He turned away, leaving only a business card on the table. “I’m not going to tell you what you already know,” he muttered.

            **_Part of me wished the conversation went on, as I was left to tend to a sea of forgettable faces once again._**

            When the signing was over, Isaka stopped by my table as I began to clean up.

            “Looks like you had a lot of fans stop by,” he beamed, as he noticed all my copies of Kuma-dono had been handed out. “Kuma-dono was a big hit.”

            I nodded in agreement. “It’s good to see that people still read my work. You had me a bit scared after that confrontation a while back.”

            “I did tell you that you weren’t in danger of being cancelled. The only way to actually end everything at this point is by finishing _The_ _Kan_.”

            “No, that won’t be for a long time yet,” I laughed bitterly.

            “Hey, you never know. You shouldn’t limit yourself like that, Ijuiin-sensei.”

            I almost dropped the table cloth in my hands, staring at him. “What do you mean by that?”

            Isaka shrugged. “Just that you’ve been one of our big-shots for a while now. People know your name—you could basically write whatever you want at this point.”

            “I’m just looking to write my story, is all.”

            “Completely respectable, then.” I felt Isaka firmly place his hand on my shoulder. “If you’re gonna keep writing your story, don’t lose focus.”

            Before I could say anything, he walked away briskly. When I tried calling out, someone bumped into me.

            “Excuse me!” he squeaked.

            “No worries,” I said, and then froze up as I instantly recognized that voice.

            “…Sensei?”

            I turned around swiftly. “Misaki, it’s been a while.” My voice cracked. “How’s the other wing?”

            “Wonderful. It’s been a lot of fun. I was just on my way home,” Misaki answered. “W-what are you doing here, Sensei?”

            “Just a book signing.”

            “Oh,” he looked down. “I-I didn’t know you had another book signing. I would’ve left earlier if I knew.”

            My body started to shake a little, staring nostalgically into his deep green eyes, as I almost struggled to find the words to say to him.

            “Don’t worry about it. If you want, I can sign your copy while I’m still here,” I offered.

            He put his hand behind his head nervously. “I would love that, but… I haven’t gotten the new volume yet.”

            I tried to mask my hatred, knowing that a certain someone would keep track of who reads manga from. Misaki was always a bad liar, after all.

            “Well, if you want, I can give it to you for free”—

            “No, no! That’s perfectly fine!” He stepped a few feet away from me.

            Part of me wants to push further and ask what I already know—if the reason why he missed the signing was because he doesn’t want Usami-Sensei to see my manga, but I decide to let it go.

            “Anyway, I’m gonna be late if I don’t get going,” Misaki said suddenly as he headed off, “I’ll see you around, Sensei!”

            “Wait, Misaki,” I called to him.

            Misaki paused, but he didn’t look at me. “Yes, Sensei?”

            I knew telling him how much I love him is just useless at this point, and I kept telling myself there’s no reason to try again.

            “…I hope to hear what you think of the new volume soon, when you can.”

            With that, he turned around and flashed a heart melting smile, just before running off again.

            Never had my heart been broken into so many pieces.

            Another few weeks flew by before I knew it.

            My manuscript for the next chapter was going in for revision, so there seemed to be nothing to do around the office except fiddle with the growing strands of my hair as I sat idly, staring at the empty chairs where my long gone assistants sat basking in the sunset.

            Even through the closed door, I could hear Isaka’s chattering, and then, upon carefully listening, I could make out the gruffness of Haruhiko’s voice.

            I still had his business card on hand, thinking about how it wouldn’t be so bad to try talking to him again.

            I closed the office door behind me, quickly catching up to them. As I was about to say something I froze, forgetting that Isaka was right there.

            _‘How could I possibly start a conversation now of all times?’_ I thought to myself, cursing my lack of sleep on my impulsivity. Nonetheless, I found myself calling after him.

            “Hey, uh…Usami-san.”

            He faced me, and I felt the doubt creeping back in. _‘What do I even say now?’_

            “…Kuma-dono is about to make his debut. The chapter will be out soon, just so you know.”

            Haruhiko didn’t say anything, as he only kept staring blankly at me. “Are you okay?” he finally asked after some time.

            “Pardon?” I didn’t think I looked that disheveled.

            “You look very tired is all,” he remarked.

            “Oh.” Well, he hit the nail on the head right there. “Yeah, of course—I’m used to it.”

            “Don’t push yourself too hard. That’s not good for you,” Haruhiko replied.

            _‘Huh? That’s weird,’_ I thought, **_‘Is he worried about me?’_**

            Isaka put his arm around Haruhiko’s neck. “It’s just the good ol’ hell week, Haruhiko. Nothing out of the ordinary here!”

            I rolled my eyes. Of course he of all people didn’t seem too bothered by the madness.

            Haruhiko averted his gaze. “I did wonder why there were a couple people passed out in the elevator on the way up…”

            _‘Probably from Emerald. They’ve had it rough lately,’_ I thought to myself.

“Anyway, I’m surprised to see you back so soon,” I interjected.

            “Well, he’s gonna be hanging around every so often as our architect. He’s the brains in the department for that new live action we just started filming. Right, Haruhiko?”

            Haruhiko nodded. “Well, not exactly. I’m not in charge of making the plans.”

            “Yeah, but it’s your company. You’re basically in charge when you think about it.” Isaka loosened his grip on Haruhiko. “Say, maybe you can keep him around for a live action of _The_ _Kan_ ,” Isaka teased.

            I shook my head. “Don’t push your luck.” I could only think of the hours upon hours it could take in between making new chapters and working on the movie. It was bad enough when the anime started.

            Isaka glanced at his watch. “Actually, Ijuiin-sensei, if you don’t mind, please keep an eye on Haruhiko for a second. I’m gonna go grab Asahina.”

            With that he ran off, leaving me alone with him once again.

            Haruhiko sighed, shifting his glasses. “I’m sorry he’s dragging you into this.”

            “Dragging me into what? It’s your meeting, not mine.”

            “That’s been long over. We’re going drinking.”

            “Oh.” It took me a few seconds to register what he meant. “Wait, what, I’m going too?”

             Haruhiko seemed to sink a little in his stance. “Don’t ask. It’s his birthday—that’s what he’ll say.”

            Part of me wanted to question if it was actually his birthday or not.

            “By the way, while we’re here, I’ve been meaning to thank you,” he said.

            “Thank me? For what?”

            “I haven’t been able to sit down and enjoy a manga since college. This has even brought me and my father a little closer.” He bowed, to my absolute surprise. “Thank you.”

            I stepped back, unsure of what to say.

            **_Before me was a man who, upon only meeting me a few times, had managed to be so grateful for something I had no idea that I did for him. And to be given such a humble, foreign gesture warmed my heart up a bit._**

            Although, in the back of my mind, I felt something twitch. Annoyance, maybe? Because this person was able to do something that I couldn’t do with my manga?

            I shooed those thoughts away. There was no need for that right now—not when I was thanked for something so unexpected.

            “…I appreciate it,” I finally said.

            Gentle footsteps approached us from behind, followed by a gentle voice.

            “Haruhiko-san, what are you doing here?”

            Just like that the warm feeling in my heart felt like wave of pain.

            “It’s a surprise to see you here, Takahashi-kun,” Haruhiko said casually.

            _‘That’s putting it mildly,’_ I thought bitterly. Then again, the two Usamis were (somehow) related. He and Misaki were bound to have met each other at some point.

            “Actually, I work here now!” he chirped. “My shift is about over, too.”

            “I see,” said Haruhiko, “I won’t keep you then.”

            And just like that, he disappeared from my sight once again, running off to most likely hand off the last of the paper work to one of the other departments before the day was over.

There was not even an acknowledgement this time of my existence, and I was just a few feet away from him. It almost felt no longer worth it to say anything.

But from the corner of my eye, I saw the most human expression I’d ever seen on anyone, let alone on Haruhiko’s face, that I could recognize from miles away—heartbreak.


	3. Act 1:2 What you Want Isn't Always in Front of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See added trigger warning to story description: brief mention of child molestation.

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 3

What you want isn’t Always in Front of You

Isaka showed up with an annoyed Asahina in a matter of moments.

"Ready to go?" Isaka asked.

"Yes," the rest of us reluctantly answered.

"Great! There's a place right down the block that I've heard is pretty good, so don't worry about venturing too far."

We looked to Asahina for answers, or perhaps a way out.

Asahina rolled his eyes. "He's never been to a social for work at a bar, and he's upset that I have."

"Hey now, it's my birthday! I can decide what I wanna do, right?"

Asahina rubbed the palm of his hand against his face tiredly.

"Ryuichiro-sama, we have the same birthday, that makes no sense—"

"And as your boss, Sensei," Isaka said to me, clearly ignoring his assistant, "I'm ordering you to come with us."

I looked around for any passerbys who could possibly care to listen in on this conversation. "Isaka-san, that doesn't sound ethical."

My boss pouted. "That's why I've had to ask you to take a break before. You don't know how to have fun."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Sir, in case you forgot, I'm a mangaka, I don't have time to go out drinking at some club."

"First of all, this is not a club. Second, you have no reason to work until your revision goes through—which likely won't be until tomorrow at this point anyway."

As I watched Isaka rush to lead us out in a slumpy single file, all I could think was how there was no way out of this.

The bus turned out to be one that I had passed many times on the way to the train station, with the marble exterior much more modern than the wooden interior. I felt intimidated, seeing the traditional get-up inside with its tatami mats and low rise tables, and the attending barmaids dressed in their yukata refusing to make eye contact with me.

 _'Guess I'm ugly again,'_  I thought to myself, rubbing the beginnings of my stubble.

We were led to the back, hidden by curtains.

The first thing that I noticed was the warmth that seemed to envelop me, followed by a sweet smell that filled my head towards the depths of my mind quickly in a way that almost made me nauseous as I sat down.

Then I remembered why I haven't had a drink in years.

Yet I found myself alongside Haruhiko on the end of the table, then Asahina and Isaka. I decided to use my seating position to my advantage, hoping to avoid the first round of drinks that came our way.

The second round arrived before I knew it, with me pretending to pour my drink, a chattering and already drunk Isaka, and a straight-faced Asahina who seemed like he could hold his drink and handle basically anything.

Even Haruhiko seemed to have rosy cheeks, gaze unfocused until Isaka started talking to him.

"Reminds you of old times, right Haruhiko?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"Why are you bringing that up like it's a good thing? You both got in trouble for stealing wine from your Father and getting drunk to the point that you threw up all over the rug and the curtains," Asahina interjected.

Haruhiko chuckled. If he wasn't so clearly drunk, I would've believed that sound to be even more like nothing I'd ever heard before—overtly musical, in fact.

"Don't encourage him!"

Isaka rested his hand on Asahina's shoulder. "Oh come on, Asahina, we were just kids. Even Haru-chan is laughing!"

Haruhiko took a long sip of his sake. "I remember you tried to play catch with the bottle and ended up throwing it at the wall and breaking it. I wonder if that mark on the wall is still there."

"And you wonder why you were never allowed to drink for business," Asahina sighed.

Isaka slapped his hand on the table. "Hey! Can I get another round here?"

Asahina hid his face. "Please, Ryuichiro-sama, these people know your parents."

I glanced at Haruhiko, who could only shrug. He seemed to sense how uncomfortable I was.

"He's always been like this," he told me.

"Always like what?" Isaka whined in the distance.

"Yet you're both so different. I'm surprised you both have been friends for this long," I said.

"Rebellious, energetic and childish…" Haruhiko mused, shifting his glasses. "He came to me first, and even made our peers stop harassing me. He's remained my good and first friend since. In a way, I think that's what I needed to ground me, and still do."

I could almost imagine a much younger Isaka making angry faces at playground bullies.

Then there was the thought of a younger Haruhiko being tormented with broken glasses, or having his shoes stolen. It made me almost teary eyed, somehow.

Haruhiko was still smiling as he reminiscenced. "Of course, don't tell him I said all that."

I filled his cup after noticing how empty it was. "Got it, uh… Haru-chan?"

"Yes, that's what he used to call me back in the day."

"No, I mean, should I call you that? Or Haruhiko? Or Usami-san?"

"Haruhiko or Haru-chan is also fine. I think I've talked with you enough," said Haruhiko.

I couldn’t believe that the son of the CEO’s Usami Group just said we were familiar enough that I could call him Haru-chan of all things.

He then gestured to my cup, and I shook my head. I was thankful to him for not asking why I didn't want any.

"You know, I can't really blame Isaka—I also never went on a business outing," Haruhiko remarked.

"Odd. You're from the great Usami family. I thought you'd be involved in a lot of those as the head's son."

Haruhiko shook his head. "Father never wanted me to be a part of those, so I never went."

Thinking about it, that had to have been way he didn't seem able to hold his liquor. "Would you even have gone if he said yes?"

He smiled almost smugly. "Of course not."

"Because again, the great Usami is too good for such commoner behavior," I smirked.

I managed to get a hearty laugh from Haruhiko, and I could've sworn I felt a slight shiver roll right down my back.

"Not quite. I just wouldn't have a good time," he said.

At that moment, I felt a twinge of guilt at the idea of Haruhiko as a complete wallflower at a cocktail party, emerging every so often to be his father's shadow, shaking hands disinterestedly with other businessmen.

He shrugged as I stared off into space. "It's nothing I'm not used to anyway. Honestly, the quieter my life is, the better."

Right then, I had a brief flash of my father's aging body in the rocking chair, his eyes beady and tired behind dirty glasses as he looked at me seriously.

_'Don't you want a quiet life, Kyo?'_

And there were no words that could possibly come out of my mouth. Even if I were asked that same question today, there'd still be no response.

"Also, it looks like we're alone now," Haruhiko pointed out.

I peered over to see that indeed, Isaka and his assistant had up and left.

"You don't think they're forcing the bill on us, right?" I asked.

Haruhiko didn't make eye contact. "They're most likely having sex in the bathroom."

I couldn't help but laugh awkwardly at his bluntness. "You have a, uh, pretty good sense of humor, don't you?"

"It may be humorous, but it's also the truth," Haruhiko said, sipping his sake.

The next five seconds in my mind felt like five minutes as I processed everything said. "Wait…what!?"

"They've been together probably longer than I remember. Somehow it's not obvious to anyone except me."

"I mean, it makes sense, and also doesn't, but I never thought of them that way."

"Well, to be honest, I had my suspicions, but I caught them kissing once, so I never said anything," Haruhiko replied.

"Haru-chan!" Isaka beamed, once he emerged from the back of the bar, "Come have another drink with me!"

And so, I watched the rest of the night unfold, shouts of cheers, laughter, some whining and finally, some sleeping at the table.

Asahina and I were the only ones awake.

Naturally, Asahina carried Isaka away from underneath his arms, almost dragging him along the floor.

"Pardon the President's rudeness. I'll take things from here."

I waved him off, ignoring Isaka's incoherent whining as he was dragged off.

Then I looked to Haruhiko, who was in a daze with his head pressed against the table.

"You alright?" I asked.

I heard him mumble as a response.

Sighing, I asked him to take out his phone. "I'll call someone for them to bring you home."

Reluctantly, Haruhiko handed me his phone. It was locked, so I gave it back to him.

"Here, put in your code."

"I don't remember it."

I rubbed my temples tiredly and forced myself to take a deep breath. "Okay, get up then—you can't be left here alone, so I'll take you home with me."

Haruhiko shook his head. "I can't."

Frustrated, I called a cab for us to go home, his arms wrapped around me as I carried him on my back.

Back at home, I set up the spare futon in my bedroom so that I could keep an eye on him.

On the bedside table was aspirin, his glasses, a bottle of water, grapes for nutrition (also one of the only foods left in my fridge), and a bucket, just in case.

He barely moved the entire time, laying there calmly with a warm rag on his head.

"If you need anything, please don't hesitate," I reminded him.

"Mmm…"

With that, I turned off the lights and crawled into bed, ready to embrace sleep.

That was, until he woke up again.

"…Kyo-san?"

I didn't respond, completely perplexed by what I just heard.

"Can I call you that?" he asked.

 _'Well, I did call him Haru-chan and he was fine with it,'_  I thought. "Sure."

"Okay. Thank you."

I closed my eyes, ready to drift off into slumber, and then—

"Kyo-san?"

I kept my eyes shut. "Yes?"

"Do you ever have dreams of someone saying that you can do anything you set your mind to, and then just like that, your dream comes true?"

Misaki's face floated around in my mind. "Yes, I have."

"That boy I was talking to at Marukawa—he did that and got me where I am today. I can't thank him enough, and not in the way I want to." I heard Haruhiko roll over. "I'm in love with him, but he'll never love me back."

Right then and there, I had wanted to tell him that he did the same for me, and how I also felt about him. Words were ready to spew out, but I ended up swallowing them down, forcing myself to go to sleep instead.

When we both awoke in the morning, he had barely said a word, only agreeing to ride with me in my car over to his estate.

I figured either he knew what he said last night, or he was hungover. I tried offering water and breakfast, but he wouldn't take anything. Instead he took his phone, remembered his pin number and contacted home to tell them he was safe and on his way.

I managed to hold back shock upon seeing how gigantic and gorgeous his mansion appeared to be even on the outside. Knowing relatively of his wealth nowhere near planned me for the finest rugs and china out on display, and his staff waiting like dogs that had been sitting at the door waiting for their owner to come home. Speaking of which, even his dog Alexander was gorgeous.

"Welcome back, Haruhiko-sama," his butler greeted him.

"Thank you, Tanaka," Haruhiko replied. "This is Ijuiin-sensei. Please treat him well. I've got a few calls to make in the meantime, as I'm sure my prospects are wondering why I'm not in my office."

"Of course, sir." Tanaka bowed, and then gestured to me. "Right this way."

He led me up the stairs, and into what I assumed to be one of many guestrooms. Tanaka pulled out a chair for me and poured some tea.

"So, how do you know Haruhiko-sama?" he asked.

"I work under Isaka-san at Marukawa Publishing," I answered.

Tanaka clapped his hands together. "Ah, the family next door! Their son in particular has been close with Haruhiko-sama for a very long time."

"I've heard," I said, sipping my tea.

"It's so good to see Haruhiko-sama making more friends. It's rare for him to have guests over."

 _ **'Friends?'**_  It had been the first time the thought even crossed my mind. We had met a few times and talked, but I didn't consider us that close.

Then again, I did bring him home after he got drunk and took care of him. And I also talked with him for a while at the bar and learned a lot about him. Even then all the times we've talked together, they were always on friendly terms. Without hesitation, he even came to visit me at my book signing, going so far as to thank me for bringing him closer with his father. Now we call each other by first name.

Also, the fact that I had made a silly character based off of him right after meeting him and having approval of it on his behalf had to say something.

"I would say we have a good relationship," I confirmed, "Being friends with him happened on a whim."

Tanaka smiled. "That makes me so happy to hear. Haruhiko-sama always did have trouble making friends…" He backed away a bit, expression changing to slight panic. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't really talk about anything like this, and it's just, well, as his friend, it might be important to know that he's …always been 'different'."

"Different, how?" I couldn't help but ask.

"He was diagnosed with Asperger’s as a child," he stated, then went on to explain after briefly pausing, "There were signs even as a baby. Some might even say that's why the Master ended up divorcing his mother, but I'm not sure that's entirely true. The kids used to bully him a lot because he had a hard time socializing and making eye contact. As far as I know, Isaka and Asahina have been his only friends."

That did explain why there seemed to be a tone issue at times—especially when he attempted to understand or demonstrate humor. There even were times where he couldn't make eye contact with me, or his speech sounded a little forced and monotone and overly blunt. The way he would also approach others or interact with others seemed a bit awkward, or if not, he was quiet and stiff.

**_Regardless, why did it even matter if he was that different from everyone else?_ **

"I mean, the thing is, Haruhiko is Haruhiko. I don't know what happened before I met him, and frankly it's none of my business, but we're friends. That's what really matters in the end."

Part of me wanted to hit myself for the cheesy response, until I saw Tanaka's face light up completely.

"I'm so glad to hear you say that," Tanaka said, then stood up, "Excuse me, I'm going to prepare more tea. Please ring the bell over by the door if you need anything."

"Understood," I said, watching as the butler left the room. I checked my phone. There were no messages, meaning that the revision was still taking a while. Yet, I didn't want to be stuck waiting forever. "Wait, before you go, where is the nearest bathroom?"

"Just a few doors down the hall the way we came upstairs," Tanaka answered, then left.

After a few moments had passed, I took the opportunity to walk out of the room. I had found the bathroom and next to it, there was a storeroom.

Curiously, I twisted the doorknob to find it was unlocked.

Sprawled along the desk were blue notebooks with the name "Usami Akihiko" written on them. Judging by the handwriting, I had assumed these were written in his younger years.

What had really caught my eye was a piece of paper stuck in the first drawer. I opened it to find an elaborate, beautiful design of a cottage likely drawn from imagination. The drawer was full of art of varying quality. No years were written on the bottom, but I could only guess they were drawn by Haruhiko, as they were all mansions, houses, and multi-purpose buildings.

At the very bottom, there were children's drawings of houses made with crayons and markers. Some of them were stick figure drawings of what I assumed to be Haruhiko and Akihiko as toddlers.

One drawing struck me as odd, though. "Sensei and Me."

"Ijuiin-Sensei, where did you find that?"

I turned to see Tanaka standing at the open door, white-faced.

"What?" I inquired, holding up the drawing, "You mean this?"

"We thought it was thrown out. Please put that back."

"What's going on over here?" I heard Haruhiko ask from a short distance away, "I thought you were both in the guest room."

Tanaka and I froze like deer in headlights. Haruhiko remained expressionless, as he clearly saw what was in my hands.

"Leave immediately," he seethed.

"But Haru"—

"Leave. Now," Haruhiko barked.

With that, I left the drawing behid and walked out of the room. Haruhiko refused to make eye contact as I passed him. Tanaka looked apologetic as I looked back at him.

At that point, there was nothing else to do for me but find the lot where I parked my car and take off.


	4. All the Little Things Are What Make It Special

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 4

All the Little Things are what make it Special

For the rest of the week, I was moping.

My assistants couldn't help but wonder what had happened, seeing as I was functioning on almost no sleep. A few of them wore masks around me, claiming that they had a cold. I think they were just more bothered by the fact that I hadn't showered since dropping off Haruhiko and continued to wear the same clothes, as I refused to do my laundry at home. I could barely even eat anything without feeling slightly sick.

This resulted in yet another warranted visit from Isaka.

"Ijuiin-sensei, I think another day off might help," he finally said, standing closer to the door and clearly holding his breath.

I shook my head defeatedly, trying not to nod off into sleep. "No, sir, I can manage to go on."

"Okay, that attitude is definitely not like you. It's not even Hell week yet," Isaka sighed, finally gathering the courage to approach my desk to check over my progress. "You're just finishing up inking for the chapter, right?"

I couldn't move my head to look up at him. "Sir, I can't just leave. There's still so much to do," I said as coherently as possible.

"Look, this is actually harmful to your health. If we really need to in the end, I'll beg the printers for another day and they'll listen."

"I don't understand. Is  _The Kan_  not doing well again?" I asked.

Isaka's face softened. "Actually, the other reason why I came here was to congratulate you. This is the best your manga has done since its debut."

I stared at him, suddenly feeling alive for the first time all week. "Are you serious?"

"That Kuma-dono character has seemed to spark more interest in your readers again. You should check out what people are saying in the surveys and letters—which I see you haven't opened in a while," Isaka recommended. He left the room suddenly to drag in a large duffel bag.

After what seemed like so long, I felt like I could cry. I hadn't seen that many letters since  _The Kan_  got popular.

"Go take off tomorrow and read them, okay?"

I held the duffel bag close. "Okay."

Now that I had thought about it, I did check from time to time to see a few new letters in my mailbox, but I didn't bother to take home anything sent to me over the course of a year. Times seemed rare where I could just sit and regain my energy through readings encouraging letters—like the ones Misaki used to write.

"You know, Ijuiin-sensei, I don't know what happened, but I don't think Haruhiko's mad at you," Isaka stated.

"What are you talking about?" I doubted he knew anything about the situation, but it was likely that Haruhiko gave him a few hints about harboring any negativity towards me.

"Haruhiko might tend to hold grudges, but he's not that much of an angry person," Isaka explained, then added, "I mean, he was always sensitive when we were kids, and I can name times where he didn't talk to me for a few days—but he always did come back first." He took a deep breath. "Just trust me on this."

Part of me wanted to use what Isaka knew about Haruhiko, but I figured I was better off holding my tongue. "Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Because I see that you both are friends, and knowing Haruhiko, going beyond a circle of just Asahina and I would really do a lot of good for him, hence why I asked you to come along with us the other day. That's what he really needs in the end is some help, and it can be hard for others to see that. People don't realize it, but he's like a, uh…" He took a moment to finish the analogy. "Like a crab! He's got a hard shell, but on the inside he's soft, you know? Like really soft crabmeat."

Isaka and I both stared at each other awkwardly, letting the simile dissipate into the air like a sour smell.

"If I see him, I won't tell him you told me any of that," I said.

"Yes, please don't."

It was interesting to read the letters the next day. A lot of my readers were saying how new chapters felt nostalgic of the earlier panels. There was even a few works of fanart, which were rare to receive, along with two homemade plushies of  _The Kan_  and Kuma-dono.

A few thoughts were pestering me to find a letter Misaki could have possibly written. As expected, he didn't write me one.

Instead, I found a letter written by the name of Kuma-chichi.

_Dear Ijuiin Kyo,_

_I've really enjoyed reading this series front to back thus far! It's brought me closer to my son, as he is the one who introduced me to The Kan. Normally, I don't read manga, as I'm an old man with a lot of business on my plate, but reading this has made me feel like a kid again. To him, I must seem like an old man having a mid-life crisis, and it's true, I am, but when it comes to media, it's hard to digest material suited for a general audience much younger than me. Even so, The Kan was too good to put down—and that's saying something!_

_Keep continuing your work,_

_Kuma-chichi_

The return address was indicated to be from the U.K.  _The Kan_  was selling internationally, but I hadn't expected someone from the U.K. to write back in perfect Japanese. Something felt odd about it.

Regardless, it was my first international letter, and I could feel the beginnings of a fire start to burn in me.

I wanted to try and start thinking of new ideas for the future. I wanted to make my readers happy and feel pride in my work. I wanted to take a shower and actually eat a full meal.

**_But really, I wanted to try and talk to Haruhiko again._ **

I showered until I was completely clean, and took my time as to not cut my face with the razor. The laundry was done by the time I had emerged from the bathroom. It never felt so good to put on fresh clothes. In my head I kept trying to tell myself positive thoughts that I could face him. Even so, I decided eating was out of the question due to my intense nerves.

As I put on my jacket and shoes, I went to grab my phone as it vibrated in my hand.

"What's your address? I need to come over right away—Haruhiko."

My first reactions were the beginnings of panic, until I remembered we had exchanged business cards at one point.

I texted him back and found myself sitting in the chair, bouncing as my panic turned into excitement. I also thought to myself how I should've thought to go grocery shopping, or at least have something prepared.

About a half hour passed when Haruhiko knocked on the door. I let him in and stood by my kitchen counter, only to see he was still standing at the doorway.

"…Do you want some coffee?" I asked him.

He shook his head, still continuing to stand there. "I don't like the taste very much. I prefer tea."

I cursed myself for not getting groceries. "At least sit down, Haru."

Immediately, he did, and I couldn't help but laugh inwardly at the idea of him as a vampire waiting for an invitation to step inside. I sighed with relief. At least that meant he was planning to stay longer.

Hesitantly, I took a seat beside him. For the past half hour I was trying to think of how to start the conversation destined to begin, or at least apologize. Nothing came to mind.

Just when I tried taking a deep breath, Haruhiko held up his hand to stop me.

"I've done a lot of thinking, and I'm still upset about what happened. I feel as if my privacy was violated above all else," Haruhiko began, "However, I don't see any real reason for us to quarrel, so I would rather us apologize to one another." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

I was absolutely floored, seeing such an honorable display of an apology that admittedly, I had felt unworthy of. "I accept." I took a moment to recollect my thoughts. "I'm sorry too… for snooping around and getting involved in personal matters without your permission."

Haruhiko nodded. "Thank you." He looked away suddenly, refusing to make eye contact. "How much did Tanaka tell you?"

"A lot of it was just discussing your…high functioning autism," I answered honestly.

"I figured. Was that all?" asked Haruhiko.

"Yes."

"Then I most likely stopped him from saying anything else," Haruhiko sighed.

His head was starting to sink so low, I thought he'd fall to the floor.

You know," I said, "I don't think of you any less. It doesn't take away anything when you've been nothing but friendly to me."

"I try, but people don't tend to see me that way. They get upset when I can't make eye contact, even though I've done a lot of work to help that," said Haruhiko.

"I'm not upset. I can't be upset at someone who's really helped me."

Haruhiko finally relaxed his posture. "What do you mean?"

My face suddenly felt heated. "…Isaka told me this is the best that  _The Kan_  has ever done, and it's ever since Kuma-dono was made a character. I've even received a lot of letters," I said. "I feel reconnected. I feel like I wanna write more again, so thank you."

I could've sworn I saw Haruhiko blush. "I-it's nothing really…" He then smiled the most natural smile I had ever seen on anyone. "You know, it's an odd coincidence. I was here to thank you as well."

Haruhiko opened his flip phone and showed me a picture of his drawing of a gorgeous, gentle golden interior graced with fine wood paneling below a silk rug. Atop the rug were large wooden tables with draping white cloth enclosed by a circle of wooden chairs with velvet cushioning, topped by fine china vases with red roses. In between the aligned tables was an empty dance floor leading to a door where the balcony covered in flowers could be seen in the velvet curtained windows.

It took me a moment for everything to click. "…This is like the café where  _The Kan_ works," I realized.

"You're correct. This is only a draft as I'm going to be helping with designing a new catering hall, but I'm proud of this one. Your work inspired that," Haruhiko confirmed, and then spoke sheepishly, "Of course, I want your permission before proceeding."

"Absolutely, I mean—it's a rendition, but even some of the finer details I'm looking at are spot on. How can I say no to that?" I gushed.

Haruhiko put the phone back in his pocket. "Truth is, a lot of my inspiration is from manga I read as a kid. Even that museum you went to was based on an old favorite manga of mine with elaborate architecture drawn that I still remember—admittedly the most clearly, as I re-read it over and over again until I had to get rid of everything when I was started university."

"Had to?" I asked.

"My father thought I was too old for 'children's picture books,'" Haruhiko clarified, "It's ironic that I got him to enjoy your manga at his old age."

The letter I had read earlier briefly appeared in my mind, but I decided to leave that alone for now. "So that's why you wanted to make up with me?"

"Yes. Just like you, I didn't feel it was fair to break off a connection over a solvable issue when you helped me achieve this," Haruhiko explained.

Haruhiko shifted his glasses and appeared to take a closer look at me. "You haven't eaten recently, have you?"

On cue, my stomach growled. "No," I muttered, embarrassed.

"I know of a good place around here that's pretty quiet," Haruhiko suggested.

"Am I gonna be underdressed for this?" I asked.

"Don't worry about that," Haruhiko said, putting on his jacket. "Just follow me."

I grabbed my keys and shoes yet again as he started his car. He looked back at me once I locked the door.

"By the way, I'm paying."

The restaurant ended up being a family joint I had passed many times—maybe even stopped in at one point. We were put all the way against the wall, despite the fact that this place was quite empty.

"You know, I'm really surprised you chose here out of everything close by," I remarked once the waitress took our orders and left us alone, "I was really expecting something more…"

"Expensive? Upscale?"

"Yeah, I mean, I didn't think you'd take looking for something simple seriously," I said.

"You said you didn't want to dress up," Haruhiko reminded me, taking a sip of his water.

"And if I did, would this be more like a date then?" I questioned with a smirk.

"I mean I don't know what kind of friends you have, and I wouldn't like to know, in that case," Haruhiko retorted, "Besides, this place has pretty good hamburgers."

Never would I have thought I'd hear a member of the notorious Usami family enjoy such a casual restaurant and utter the words "pretty good hamburgers" in the same sentence.

"Does your family know you secretly enjoy eating commoner food?" I teased him.

Haruhiko smiled smugly. "It's not like they bother to check my account transactions."

In no time, we were given our meals. I couldn't help but think how surreal it was to watch a mighty filthy rich business man who could buy every eatery in all of Japan and beyond, no less the brother of my rival, eat a hamburger. He ate his burger and fries delicately with a fork and knife, and that somehow made the scene seem even more unreal.

It was almost…kind of cute?

I stared down at my soup and salad. Suddenly, I wasn't so hungry.

"You need to eat something," Haruhiko reminded me between bites.

I nodded, forcing a spoonful of soup into my mouth.

"I should also admit that I have a confession to make," Haruhiko announced.

Suddenly, it felt like that spoonful of soup I swallowed weighed like a brick in my stomach.

"The real reason I brought you here was that I decided that I should tell you about what you saw in that room," Haruhiko revealed, "I don't expect you to breathe a word of what I tell you, and regardless of how you came across that picture I drew as a child, there would be questions."

"I guess that means Isaka doesn't know?"

Haruhiko shook his head. "No, I could never tell him. His family is close to ours."

"Then why trust me?" I questioned.

"I don't find a reason not to trust you. You're clearly not my enemy if I have been previously able to disclose personal details and feel…somewhat of relief," Haruhiko admitted.

His expression grew somber. Whatever meaning he needed to tell me about the picture seemed to have been weighing on his mind for so long.

"Okay, I understand," I said to him, leaning back against the booth, "I'm all ears."

Haruhiko took a deep breath, fiddling with his fries as he formed the words in his head.

"As a child, I had difficulty organizing myself when it came to school. I was smart enough to understand the material, but I needed help getting the worksheets done, so my father hired Sensei to help me. With his help, I reached beyond my full potential," he began. "At the same time, I found myself in love with Sensei as the sessions went on when he'd…reward me with affection after doing a good job. I'd even tell Tanaka and Father I want to be Sensei's bride and they'd laugh. There's more pictures I drew, too, that I made for Sensei, but they're not around anymore."

"Sensei loved me like an adult, and that's what he told me." His face darkened. "Or so I thought." He gave himself a moment to breathe. "Then, Akihiko started school. Since Sensei did so well teaching me, he had Akihiko be taught by Sensei, too. I caught them together and I got so angry that I told Father. He was fired immediately and Akihiko was sent to England to forget the whole incident."

Haruhiko laughed suddenly. "It's funny. I hated Akihiko afterwards because I thought he stole Sensei from me. It didn't help that it seemed like he could do whatever he wanted or get whatever he wanted, so out of anger I'd take belongings from him, as I was forced under my Father's wing while he could fly with his." He took a long sip of water. "That boy I told you I fell in love with, I even tried to steal him away too from my brother out of anger, although I fell in love with him later on."

Haruhiko shifted his glasses and looked up at me, seeming to collect himself. "Of course, now I realize what Sensei did was outright molestation. There was never any stealing from anyone in the first place, as he and I were both children and didn't understand. It wasn't Akihiko's fault, yet I still can't help but despise him at this point in life." We took a moment of silence. "I'm sorry I talked too much."

My mind was completely blank. There in front of me was someone who bore his soul to me, body trembling with his voice shaking as he did so.

"No, you haven't. I'm sorry you had to go through something that terrible," I finally spoke.

I raised my arm instinctively, wanting to comfort Haruhiko as his elbow rested on the table.

"It's okay to," he said, noticing my hand itching to touch him.

I stroked his arm slowly, watching him control his breathing and tremors, staying silent together.

**_Oddly enough, at that moment, I felt like I was no longer alone—hoping that he felt the same._ **

Haruhiko drove me home once the check was paid and saw me to the door.

"Thank you for dinner," I said to Haruhiko, unlocking the door to my apartment.

He nodded. "Thank you, too, for listening," he replied, turning his back to head towards the car.

I couldn't help but think that maybe there was something I should've tried to say as I watched him drive off, but then settled for leaving this friendship in the state it reached.

Even so, that night, I had a new dream.

_I was a young boy again, and I had lost my way in the deepest, darkest of woods with no way home. It was so dark I could barely see, but I darted in the direction where I heard something that sounded like sobbing._

_Eventually, a crying boy about my size had bumped into me._

_"Are you lost?" I asked him._

_"Yes, I don't know where I am," he answered._

_I held out my hand to him. "Let me help you, then."_

_The boy stared at my hand and then back at me. "How do you want to help me, yet you're lost and crying too?"_

_"I-I'm not crying—what do you mean?"_

_"You are, though," he pointed to a puddle, "See?"_

Right then, I woke up, heavily breathing. I hopped out of bed and poured myself a glass of water from the bathroom sink to calm down.

Sure enough, I looked in the mirror as I drank my water. My eyes were red and teary from crying.


	5. Act 2:1 Home is Not Always the Way Back

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 5

Home Does Not Have to Be the Way Back

            The next few months passed before my eyes. I found myself working my hardest on my manga and began a new arc. By far, it was the most effort I had done on story planning and I became excited to work on each chapter I planned.

Those sleepless nights I spent working to the point of needing to take minute breaks to soothe my cramping hands felt like nothing in the end. Even my assistants seemed to perk up as of late, willing to go to the extra mile to stay longer hours to get everything done faster.

Yet, with my energy being devoted to creative passion, I somehow was able to find more energy to spend time with Haruhiko when possible.

It became routine at this point. About once a week, depending on our work schedules, I’d get a text asking if I was available for dinner. Each time, I was able to comply, while also stay in awe at how Haruhiko seemed to have my schedule of production down better than I probably did.

He’d then throw in an offer to get his driver to pick me up, and I’d politely decline and remind him that I had my own car to drive over if necessary.

Afterwards, we would talk over dinner, mostly about our respective projects. Sometimes I would talk about co-workers in my department or other editors and mangaka, and he’d talk about his co-workers.

Every time we talked, I was amazed all over again at the fact that Haruhiko had difficulty interpreting sarcasm and humor at times, but he could dish it well (straight-faced, all the while).

Afterwards, we’d head back to my place. I learned by then to keep tea for him and serve a cup while he gazed at my massive manga library that I was managing to keep organized on my own. I’d then gently remind him that he could borrow whatever he wanted.

Of course, I very well knew Haruhiko could buy plenty of books for himself and keep it in storage away from his family, but there was something about looking at the glimmer in his eyes when he held a book in his hand whenever I told him I was not using that one for reference material.

            We would part ways by the end of the night, agreeing to do this again when available. He’d hand me a different manga he borrowed from the time before and give his thanks before heading home.

            By all means, I couldn’t help it think of this as the most contradictory friendship I ever had—as it was also so normal and fulfilling. To say that it’s the most fulfilling friendship also ended up in some serious self evaluating on my part, yet, regardless of our initial differences of him being a super rich man in a super rich family with a brother I didn’t care for who took my crush away, and me being a manga author with my own mess to deal with. Yet between our somehow matching sense of humor, love for good art and manga, and how well we got along, it was a near perfect match.

            It was a match so perfect, of course, that Isaka had to point it out to me.

            “You know, I haven’t seen Haruhiko this happy in a long time,” he said to me one day as he caught me in the hallway on the way to the elevator.

            “You really think so?” I asked.

            “I see the way he lights up when he’s around you—he doesn’t even look at me that way, and I’ve known him longer than you,” Isaka remarked.

            Part of me wanted to retort back about how he must be jealous, but Asahina was next to him, and there was no need to start a conflict.

            Right at that moment, my phone vibrated. My hell cycle just ended, so naturally Haruhiko texted me about having dinner. I replied back, agreeing immediately.

            “Some goes for you too, Sensei,” Isaka smirked, “Seeing you smile at a text like it’s from your girlfriend, let alone show any happiness, seems very unlike you.”

            Any sliver of happiness left my face. “Sir, if you’re trying to imply anything, that’s really inappropriate.”

            Isaka raised his hand in surrender. “I’m just saying, remember that you’re a big name, and people will start talking.” He paused. “Just like they almost did with Misaki.”

            I felt a sharp pain in my chest at the mentioned name I hadn’t heard or thought of for so long.

            “I don’t say these things to scare you, but I am going to tell you the truth because you need to hear it, and last time I checked, you do work for me,” Isaka said.

            “Yet aren’t you the one who encouraged me to be his friend?” I asked.

            “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t worry about rumors. Haruhiko is my friend, too, and I don’t want anything hurting him, either,” Isaka explained.

            The elevator doors opened, and I got on wordlessly, taking the ride down as I drowned in my thoughts.

Haruhiko and I ended up agreeing the on the same family restaurant we had went to the first time we ate together. We had gone there several times after, and I had especially taken a liking to the friendly atmosphere and the convenient location, since it was the middle point between our work buildings.

            “Kyo-san,” Haruhiko said, mid-delicate bite of his burger, “Do you happen to be available tomorrow as well?”

            I thought back to my calendar briefly. “I should be free. Is it a special occasion?”

            “Yes. There was a place I wanted to go with you,” he answered.

            “I thought that catering hall is still undergoing work.”

            “It is, but that won’t be done for a while,” Haruhiko replied.

            I took a bite of my sandwich. “What did you have in mind?”

            “There’s an aquarium nearby. It’s the first building I ever designed,” said Haruhiko.

            Now that I had thought about it, I remembered hearing something about an aquarium reopening a couple of years or so back. Ads in the paper were raving about the renovations.

“You were behind that?” I gasped.

            “You’ve seen it?”

            “No,” I said, feeling slightly guilty, “But I’ve heard great things about it.”

            The more time I had spent around Haruhiko, the more I realized how bad he was at hiding his bashfulness. “The project did go smoothly, all according to plan. The last time I went was when it first opened, and I have not checked back since.”

            “Then we should definitely go. I’m not staying too late, so I can meet you right after work,” I offered.

            I could see Haruhiko brimming with excitement, despite giving me a stoic face. To anyone else, they’d think he had no enthusiasm, but the way he’d break eye contact and try to keep his posture still told a different story—and I started to allow myself more to recognize what I called his cute side.

            “Actually, there’s another reason why I want to go,” he confessed, shifting his glasses. “Tomorrow is my birthday, and I’ve never really celebrated or anything.”

            “And you’ve never said anything?” I gasped, “I mean, you told me when you were turning 35**, but you didn’t say when. I would have at least given you a gift.”

            Haruhiko shrugged, looking away again. “I don’t like making a big deal out of it. Besides, I have everything I need. Going somewhere with you is more than enough for me.”

            Normally, anyone would take this as a rude comment, but knowing Haruhiko, it was meant to be humble. Also, I couldn’t help but feel slight relief, as at that point, I had no idea what gift would even be appropriate for him.

            “You never even celebrated with Isaka and Asahina?”

            He shook his head. “They know I don’t like that.”

            “What’s changed, then?” I asked him.

            “I just…” he paused, “Figured it was time for a different change of pace. I feel like only you would understand.”

            My heart stopped, and forgot how to function in the most familiar way—as if all of a sudden, there was a backlog of emotions that just rushed in at once. It wasn’t like a filter over my vision that made everything rosy, but more like everything I had been looking at suddenly become more real to my world and in my grasp.

            I could see his pointed, yet boyish face that stayed young despite his age behind glasses that emphasized deep, dark eyes like a well of smoky quartz. Well kept, soft brown hair combed over further complimented gently sun-kissed skin that hugged his tall, slender physique.

            **_I welled up with happiness, despite knowing deep down that I had felt something like this before._**

            “Why are you staring at me like that?” Haruhiko asked me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

            “Nothing—I was just thinking that maybe you’re right, I do understand,” I finally said.

That night, I dreamt of an old memory from my grade school days.

_My mother loomed over me, casting a shadow on my small body, and I couldn’t look at her._

_“Kyo, do you want to tell me what happened in school today?”_

_I stayed silent, holding to my chest the new manga I got at the bookstore after school. Unfortunately, I did not beat my mother to the house._

_“Listen, your teacher called me today to come over for a parent conference.” She hunched down to my level. “I know it’s been hard for you to make friends at school, but punching someone in the face is completely unacceptable. We taught you better than that.”_

_I still refused to speak._

_She sighed. “Please talk to me, Kyo. All you’ve been doing is scribbling in that sketchbook and reading that manga of yours—which you’re still doing during class when your teacher and I told you not to.”_

_I looked away._

_“Your father isn’t going to be happy when he hears about this when he comes home tonight,” she warned me._

_“So? It’s not like he’s ever home anyway,” I muttered._

_Right then, she snapped, snatching the manga book from my hands despite my protesting._

_“Clearly your teacher is right, this is poisoning you,” she seethed, proceeding to barge into my room and throw all my books onto the floor “From now on, you come straight home after school. No more excuses about why you couldn’t do your homework.”_

_She then lunged for my backpack, digging her hand to sift through the contents inside. “Where’s your sketchbook?”_

_I stood there helpless, rubbing my sore knuckles. My mind was simultaneously flashing back to how my fist felt against the face of a classmate’s name I had long forgotten, how his expression went from boisterous laughter after he poured water all over my sketchbook and smeared dirt on it from bottom of his shoes—that same face other classmates wore when they tortured me—to a look of pain that matched the way I felt on a daily basis._

_Instead of answering, I started crying. At that moment, my mother seemed to put two and two together._

_“Did they hurt you?” she asked._

_I nodded and showed her my ruined sketchbook._

_“I’m so sorry sweetheart. That’s the one your father gave you, right?”_

_“They said my drawings were stupid,” I finally said, flipping through the pages of early character designs for TheKan._

_Her demeanor was calm, and even looked remorseful. “Have you told Sensei about this?”_

_“She just told me that I have to do better to make friends,” I told her._

_The phone rang right then, and my mother sprang up from her slouched position to answer it._

_“Honey, is that you?” A moment of silence. “They’re having you stay behind longer? But I thought…” More silence. “I see. I understand. I love you too, dear. Kyo is right here, would you like to talk him real quick?”_

_My mother handed the phone to me._

_“Hello, dad?”_

_Loud static rang in my ears, jolting me awake into a cold sweat._

The clock read 4:30 AM. I went to the bathroom, splashed water on my face, and crawled back into bed, trying to ease my pounding heart.

Unable to fall back asleep, I found myself getting up and ready, all the while thinking to myself that one store I frequented was going to open soon and that I could make it to work on time after making a trip there. It was at the store that I knew I could buy a present for Haruhiko.

            I found myself, despite a lack of sleep, eager to get home after work. I showered, I shaved, and I had a clean button down shirt and jeans. This was a routine I had gone through so many times before meeting Haruhiko for this specific night, yet somehow, this felt different.

            Every time I passed the bathroom, I checked for nicks on my face from the razor I used, or made sure my hair did not need to be combed over again. Even upon looking at myself, I was constantly switching between tucking in my shirt and leaving it unbuttoned. Every minute felt like an hour, as I waited for a text from Haruhiko and his driver (he had convinced me to allow myself to be driven this one time).

            My phone suddenly buzzed, and I nearly jumped out of my skin as I immediately reached into my pocket

            “Hello, you’ve reached Ijuiin Kyo,” I answered habitually.

            _“Kyo?”_ the voice quietly inquired.

            “…Mother?”

            _“Oh, thank goodness. I thought you might have changed your number. It’s been a while since we last spoke, dear,”_ she said.

            “I’m sorry. I’ve been very busy on my end,” I told her.

            _“I know you are, Kyo, and I know you told me I’m better off not calling in case you’re going through some publishing crisis again. Yet, I’m sure you can spare five minutes of your time once in a while.”_

            Right then, I heard a polite knock at the door.

            “Actually, you ended up catching me at a bad time again. I need to go, but I will talk to you soon,” I said quickly.

            _“Kyo, you sound like you’re going on a date the way you’re trying to get rid of me so quickly. You should’ve at least told me you were seeing someone.”_

            My face felt like it was suddenly lit on fire, despite knowing that she was teasing me. “No, mother—I”—

            _“Anyway,”_ she interjected, _“I wanted to ask you to visit in a month. Whether you bring your ‘little friend’ or not is fine, but come visit this time, please.”_

             In the back of my head, I thought about when the last time was that I had gone back to my hometown. It wasn’t until it finally hit me that I found that any excitement I had went to the pit of my stomach.

            “I’ll think about it.”

            _“Please do, Kyo. I’m being very patient like you asked, but it’s been so long,”_ she pleaded.

            The knock on my door resonated even louder.

            “I will. I have to get going, I’ll talk to you soon.”

            With that, I hung up and ran to open the door. “Sorry about that, my Mother called,” I apologized, breathless.

            Haruhiko stood at the doorway, and my composure nearly jumped outside of my control. I had never seen him wear anything but a suit, yet this was the most formal he had ever been although he was dressed so casually.

            He wore a plaid buttoned shirt that exposed his fit, tan arms, tucked into black, form fitting jeans. Even his brown loafers looked comfier than the dress shoes he always wore.

            “Was I interrupting something?” he finally asked. “You look upset.”

            “No, not at all…” I cleared my throat. “She had to go, anyway.”

***I think according to the canon Haruhiko would be 35 by this time?**


	6. Act 2:2 There is No Other Fish in the Sea (Like You)

** A/N: ** **Sorry for the delay, I’m still writing more chapters, but it will take some time so I can focus on school. Also, I’m not sure why the page breaks have been giving me such a hard time for the first scene, so I apologize if it makes everything more difficult to read. Anyway, I hope the wait was worth it.**

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 6

There’s No Other Fish in the Sea (Like You)

            _There’s still one memory that comes to mind whenever I feel that I am near the height of my exhaustion, lost in daze as if I’m walking aimlessly through the city, bar hopping with vague faces that consisted of my peers escorting me for that moment, the crowd changing before I could begin to understand what was going on around me._

_Loud and boisterous, and somehow just above the delinquents--we’re just the city college kids, and we’re told this is how life is supposed to be when you’re at the end of a gripping adolescence._

_It’s normal, and I have friends for once, so everything is okay. For once, everyone knew who I was on campus by my face, but not by name, and they made sure to say hello._

_And I find it doesn’t take long for these friends like to dote on me by buying me drinks. They play with my hair, “accidentally” bump into me and tell me how attractive I am—both men and women._

_And I like the attention, letting myself succumb to their cold hands in attempts to warm my dying heart. I needed more warmth, but it wasn’t enough, so I indulged in the bottomless rounds of alcohol that sank me in a black ocean where even between the empty words and caresses, I was all alone in my own little world, and being alone meant being safe. No longer could anyone be given the chance to burst my bubble with the thick walls I worked so long to build._

_But then, just like that, it popped on its own, and I was the one who held the needle._

_The doctors were the ones who repaired what they could of me back together that one night when I could remember nothing. Kiss and bruise marks I saw on my body made it even harder to distinguish what really happened._

_When I came to, I had imagined my parents and their livid faces, ready to scream at me for practically getting myself expelled. I was ready, I knew before I took my exams that I wasn’t meant for university._

_Instead, I was met with my father’s tired demeanor, seeming so small and shrunken in his wheelchair. His look mirrored that of pity._

_“Don’t you want a quiet life, Kyo?” he had asked._

_And just like that, his words faded, his entire face had wiped out of my vision, letting me fall back into the abyss that I had created for myself._

_I felt myself reaching for the surface, the warmth of his hands, as I felt myself sinking further and further…_

“Is everything okay?”

In an instant, my head was pulled out of the water upon hearing Haruhiko’s voice. Somehow, we had long been settled at the restaurant, with our food on the table we shared.

            I looked back up at him sluggishly, feeling myself slowly emerge from the daydream that was previously eating away at me. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

            “You haven’t touched your food, and you’re not really talking much,” he noted.

            Initially, when Haruhiko had picked me up, he had said that the place we were going to was different from where we usually dined out, but I didn’t expect to be looming over the Meguro river, with the cherry blossoms waiting to bloom in front of our windows. This was already contributing even further to the already peaceful atmosphere already emitted from the dark wood paneling that covered the sparse, yet modern walls and floor that made this scene even more intimate than I wanted to be aware of.

            Then again, I could not expect anything less from a business with reviews in the papers bragging about how the restaurant was “oozing with simple elegance” when it first opened, as it was unsurprisingly owned by the none other than the Usami family.

I also wondered if Haruhiko had rented out the entire venue, which was smaller than I imagined it would be, as there was no background noise in the distance other than the panicked humming in my head that seemed to get louder the more I found myself sneaking extended glances at Haruhiko, who was giving me concerned looks.

“Is the food not to your liking?”

            The steaming puffer fish chirinabe sitting before me even seemed to stare back, waiting for answers. “I’ve just never had puffer fish before is all.”

            “If you want, you could order something else.”

            “No, please, I’m just not that hungry anyway,” I sighed.

He took a bite out of his shabu-shabu, appearing to be disappointed by my statement.

            _‘Get it together, Kyo!’_ I thought to myself, forcing myself to try the puffer fish. _‘It’s his birthday, you’re letting him treat you at one of the fanciest restaurants in Japan, and you’re here moping because of a phone call, and getting upset because it took you this long to realize he’s’—_

            “Is everything okay, gentlemen?” the waiter asked us, passing by to refill our water.

            “Hot!” I gasped in surprise, fanning my mouth that felt as if it tasted fire.

            The waiter calmly poured me a glass of water, which I graciously took. “Perhaps you would like to order a drink. What about you, Usami-sama?”

            “That’s alright. We’ll just have the check, if you don’t mind. We’re actually in a hurry,” Haruhiko said.

            The waiter bowed before leaving. “Of course, sir.”

            We ate the rest of our meals in silence, as I attempted to recover from the embarrassment and intense spiciness that lingered in my mouth.

I was absolutely floored by how the aquarium looked, even on the inside. Glass tunnels, fish as far as the eye can see, dim lighting and plenty of space to sit around. Even the dining area looked lovely, as it was made entirely of clay stone, and it led to a classic coliseum dome and other areas where there were feedings and shows.

Unfortunately, our schedules didn’t allow us to see any planned events, like the penguin feeding or the sea lion show, but I was still excited to look around. I could not even recall the last time I had been to a beach and seen this much water in one place.

            A female attendee called us to the ticket booth. “Next, please.”

Haruhiko held up his pass. “He’s with me.”

She nearly jumped in surprise. “G-good evening, Usami-sama!” she exclaimed. “I-it’s so nice to see you again!”

            Haruhiko nodded to the attendee, acknowledging her presence as we continued walking. I tried to keep any thoughts of jealousy hidden away; as she continued to gawk and blush with her eyes wandering on Haruhiko the further we walked away from her line of sight.

            “I guess you stop by here often enough?” I asked.

            “Actually, I have not been here for some time, but back when we were still working on the aquarium, I was always around. The company prefers to have inspections of our projects, so they were used to seeing me after some time. She’s actually one of the assistants looking after the marine wild life,” Haruhiko explained.

            “Oh,” I mumbled, “She seems…pretty.” That was the truth. She had a young face with her black hair styled in a bob cut. In another lifetime, I would have gladly given her my number.

            “I suppose so, but she’s not my type,” he said. “It seems she was looking at you.”

            I felt my anxiety loosen its grip slightly at his failed observation. “Ha, no, she’s not my type either.”

            I could have sworn he gave me a suspicious glance, but he seemed ready to let go of the conversation.

            “Most of everything here is closed, but there’s one room I wanted you to observe,” Haruhiko said, gesturing me first into the doorway.

Before me stood an enormous tank that looked like it came straight out of a mermaid fantasy. Schools of fish swam by in dozens—a moving rainbow that slowed down my rapidly beating heart just staring at it.

            Haruhiko got closer, residing by the small, yet bright coral reef. “You feel it, too, don’t you? This sense of peace.”

            “Is that why you wanted to take me here?” I asked, standing beside him.

            “Yes, well, that’s one reason,” he said, putting his hand up against the glass. “Truthfully, I’ve been avoiding coming back to this place—this very room,” Haruhiko said, staring into the tank as a sting ray swept over our vision, “It seemed like so long ago. I had pulled him aside, and told him how I had done a lot of thinking, and that he wasn’t only on my mind because my attention had extended to include him because of my position in relation to my father and brother. I said that I was in love with him.”

            Swirling colors intertwined with one another behind the glass, the light reflecting on his face and his deep dark eyes. He smiled sadly, his gaze neglecting mine. “I told him that he could have anything he wanted—even a tropical island.” He paused thoughtfully, finger tapping against his chin. “Although, I may have gone too far when he said he liked strawberries.”

            I could see it in my mind, his total rejection mirroring mine with Misaki’s words, nervous and trying to let everything down easy, yet biting like winter frost.

            _“Not possible!” he had stammered, pushing me away when I drew him closer._

            My lips tingled slightly, reminiscing over giving him a peck on the cheek as a goodbye, despite his rejection, walking off into a new era of darkness.

            “I’m sorry. It must have been rough to go through that,” I empathized with him.

            “Perhaps,” he said, shifting his glasses, “But even I find my love for that boy has withered. I may owe him my eternal gratitude, but I cannot hope any longer to be with him.”

            Even I had started to think to myself at that moment. When was the last time I had really thought about Misaki? I knew that amidst everything, I was still longing for him, but even those feelings of desire were hollow now—or they had been for a long time. He definitely hadn’t been on my mind as much, not as much as…

            “Yet, now that I’m here again, I feel a sense of…serenity,” Haruhiko continued, pulling me away as I was ready to drown in my thoughts. “I forgot what it was like to sit here as the aquarium was coming together, staring out as the fish passed me by—how it reminds me that I’m not alone in the world.”

            I stared as the reflection of the glass glimmered over his face, his eyes mesmerized by the deep water abyss. My hands ached as if they were searching for something to hold, even if they were to just brush against his.

            “Do you still feel that way?” I questioned.

            “Feel what way?” Haruhiko asked.

            “That you need to be reminded that you’re not alone.”

            I couldn’t tell what was worse, hearing myself say that, or hearing the loud pounding in my chest as he still refused to look at me.

“Since meeting you, the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” Haruhiko finally said. Out of the corner of my eye, I could’ve sworn he smiled. It was a shy one, and the most sincere I had ever seen anyone smile.

Here was a man who looked me as a person of respect, and not an object of one. Here was someone who clearly admired me, but with admiration that somehow went beyond the person I presented myself as to the world.

**_Here was someone who I knew I wanted more than anything._ **

So without thinking, I held his hand in mine without hesitation. His hands felt soft to the touch, and I could only imagine how the rest of his skin and his lips felt. I could’ve sworn he returned my grip, albeit gently.

We stayed like this for some time, staring at the waves of fish pass over us as if we were the only two people that existed in the world.

            The ride back to my home had continued to be filled with silence.

            I didn’t mind the quiet, as sitting in the car ended up in us evolving from holding hands to Haruhiko leaning against me, his head on my shoulder.

            Admittedly, it took me a little longer to wrap my arm around his side, but I gradually found my heart stopped pounding, and my body ease comfortably as if it was always meant to sit with Haruhiko’s.

            A few times I could have sworn I saw the driver sneak a few concerned glares at us, but somehow, I did not care. After all, if Haruhiko seemed perfectly fine with affection in this moment, and in the aquarium, he likely didn’t mind onlookers.

            Before I knew it, we had already rolled up to my apartment.

            We both got out of the car, taking our sweet time to head up the stairs together, still holding hands.

            I hesitantly took the key out of my pocket, still unsure of what to say.

            _‘Do I just tell him bye, see you some other time? That I’ll text him? Or should I just say to him’_ —

            “Kyo-san,” he said to me, and I nearly jumped, turning to face him with the key still in the lock. “What are we?”

            I blinked, and my mouth instantly went dry. “What…are we?”

            “Yes,” he replied, demeanor completely unwavered.  

            Suddenly I felt the puffer fish tremble violently in my stomach, beads of sweat rolling down the sides of my face.

            “Kyo-san, are you not feeling well?” Haruhiko asked.

            “A-ah… I feel quite dizzy, actually,” I huffed.

            “Do you need help?” Haruhiko offered, appearing concerned as he drew closer to me.

            “N-no, no! I’m fine, just that chirinabe has really gotten to me,” I said hastily, turning the key so fast I could have broken the latch.

            I swung open the door, nearly falling through the entrance. I tried to keep my balance, only to be steadied up completely by Haruhiko.

            “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked me.

            I turned to him, face immediately flushing as I realized how close his face was to mine.

            “I’m perfectly okay,” I said, marching into the house.

            I heard footsteps following behind me. “Then why won’t you answer my question?”

            “Haru, just please give me a second,” I shouted to him, as I was practically storming into my personal library, searching frantically.

            _‘That’s right, with everything that happened today, I almost completely forgot! Where is it?’_ I panicked to myself.

            “…If you’re just going to dance around this, I’ll assume what the answer is,” Haruhiko said.

            “No, Haru, you don’t get it,” I said, knocking almost every book down off the shelf as I tore the room apart.

            “I’ve faced rejection before, I know what it is like,” said Haruhiko, picking up the books as they fell. “So yes, I do get it.”

            Right then, another book fell off the shelf face open, and a tiny slip of paper fell out. Haruhiko went to grab it, and I recognized the hand writing instantly. I wanted to shout, but no words came out as the other books fell out of his arms.

            “A letter from… Takahashi-kun?” He stood still, paper crumbling on the edges from how hard he gripped it. “…Why is this…?”

            I protectively tried to grab the paper out of his hands, but he held on as I waited for an unexpected nightmare to play out.

            “Takahashi-kun…is just a fan of mine,” I said, struggling to get the words out.

            Haruhiko couldn’t look at me anymore. “Yet out of the many letters you must have received, you use his as a bookmark.”

            I felt my blood go cold. There was no use denying it anymore.

            “That letter was the one of many he sent me. There have been a number of times where I’ve gone through a rut, and his letters would cheer me up. He made me want to keep going with how dedicated of a fan he was to me,” I said. “Even when I finally met him in person, I was going through such a bad spell and he helped me then.”

            “So you fell in love with him too,” Haruhiko stated.

            “I did.”

            A long silence fell over us that seemed to last hours.

            He just stood there, his eyes fully hidden behind his glasses, clearly walled by my confession.

            “When I did confess my feelings, naturally, he rejected me, because after all, he only admired me as an artist. It took time to realize that it wasn’t best for me to try again, and he had grown so uncomfortable by my advances that he had switched out to another department,” I continued to explain.

            Haruhiko still wouldn’t look at me. “Do you still love him?” he finally asked.

            “A part of me may still love him, but for the most part, I have gotten over him,” I answered as honestly as I could.

            As I had expected, Haruhiko slowly turned the other way, ready to shuffle in defeat out of the door.

            “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” I could only say. “That was wrong of me—I just wasn’t ready to talk about that part of me yet.”

            Haruhiko stood still. “You know, the more I think about it, I realize I barely know a thing about you.” He started to tremble. “I barely knew a thing about him either, even with all the research my father had me conduct. But you, you have a name and a celebrity status personality that I can search online whenever I want to—and it’s still not enough. We go out to dinner all the time and we talk, but I still don’t know anything about you.”

            “Maybe not, but I would like you to,” I said.

            “Why? You clearly didn’t want that before,” Haruhiko huffed.

            In an instant, my hand had blindly found what I was searching for, laying face in front of me on the floor beside the book with the letter bookmarked inside.

            “Because while I may not know everything about you, I want to learn more about you too,” I said, “And right now, what I do know is that this belongs to you.”

            Slowly, Haruhiko turned around, and I handed him a large, dark leather covered sketchbook, with an assortment of fine markers and coloring pencils. His expression immediately softened, rubbing his thumb against the leather as if to calm himself.

            “I know you said not to give you anything, but I couldn’t help myself, so I went to where I usually get my art supplies and found that,” I said, unable to hold back a smile as he flipped carefully and excitedly through the crisp, clean pages.

            “Thank you, it’s lovely” he replied sheepishly, tucking the sketchbook under his arm. “You didn’t have to, though.”

            “You’re right, I didn’t, but I do have to give you this,” I said, taking a few steps toward him.

            In one swift movement, I gave him a long, unrestrained full kiss on his lips, and they were just as soft as I imagined they would be.

            Haruhiko was frozen, mouth refusing to part as I held the kiss until I was nearly out of breath.

“Happy birthday, Haru.”

            I stood back to give him some space, a moment to process the situation. I had never seen someone so red in the face in my entire life—even outmatching Misaki’s expression.

            “My driver is still waiting outside,” he finally said, unable to make eye contact.

            This time I dejectedly let him exit the apartment, ready for a night of tossing and turning over how I had most likely lost my shot with someone who truly had made me feel on top of the world.

That was, until he had stopped dead in his tracks once again.

“Would you happen to be available tomorrow evening for a…date?” Haruhiko requested.

“A-absolutely!” I stammered, trying to contain my excitement, while also in the back of my mind trying not to think about the massive amount of work I needed to start tomorrow for the new arc.

“I’ll contact you soon, then,” Haruhiko replied as he took his leave for the night.


	7. Act 2:3 Uncertainty is Another Name for the Elephant in the Room

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 7

Uncertainty is another Name for the Elephant in the Room

            The next morning, I woke up to a phone call from my secretary.

            _“Hey, so, I heard you’re going to be coming into work a bit late today?”_ Kimura asked.

            I felt the circles under my eyes drag farther down. “I’m sorry?”

            _“Yes, I received a notification this morning. Not sure who told me, but apparently I was told you were given a couple hours grace. Something about an important delivery?”_

            “Kimura, what are you talking about”—

            Right then, the doorbell rang. I crawled out of bed, phone still in hand.

            “Whatever it is, it’s already here. I’ll be there shortly, I apologize,” I said, hanging up on him as I dragged myself to the door.

It took looking into the peephole to realize I was being greeted by a very concerned looking mailman.

            I took a step back, thinking to myself for a moment. I hadn’t ordered anything online recently, and it was too early to get any bills. Even then, neither of those options justified why I would be told that I was going in late to work.

            I opened the door and found a pile of packages surrounding the mailman like a fort, rubbing my eyes to see if I was delusional from a lack of sleep.

            “Is this all for me?” I asked.

            “If you’re Ijuiin-san, then I assume so,” the mailman said, tiredly handing me the clipboard. I signed hesitantly.

“That’s not the last of it, by the way,” he added, turning around slowly to fetch however many more boxes were left in the van.

            I inspected one of the packages carefully. “From Haruhiko.”

            I brought the package inside and sliced it open with my box cutter. “Pens and erasers,” I mused, surprised by the variety of brands I saw before me. Some I recognized and used, and some were the high quality brands I could never hope to obtain for myself.

            I brought in another package. “White out, ink and brushes…”

            And then the next one had copic markers and tape.

            The other ones had a mixture of everything. It seemed like every time I opened one box, more came to my door.

            By the time I was done, my entire living room was swallowed up by a sea of boxes, with some sitting on my dining room table. I couldn’t tell who was more irritated by Haruhiko—me or the mailman.

            The mailman had bolted when he finished his job, and I was sitting back on my bed, out of breath. My phone rang again with moments, and I blindly picked it up.

            “Yes, I know, I apologize. I’ll be right there, I just finished up,” I said.

            _“I suppose that means you got my packages?”_ asked Haruhiko.

            I felt any anger I had immediately melt away hearing his voice, despite only having it in my presence just last night. “Was that everything?” I huffed.

 _“It should be, unless you need anything else. I can do more overnight shipping if you’d like,”_ Haruhiko said.

            “No, no, that’s fine, it’s just…” I paused, trying to think of the right words to say. _‘This is obviously how he shows his affection, there’s no need to get angry.’_

            _“Do you not like it_?” Haruhiko asked, and I could hear a slight dip of disappointment in his tone.

            “It’s not that I don’t like it. In fact I really… appreciate everything you got me, but it’s just way too much,” I said, dreading the sight before me, “I can’t get to my living room now, and I have to be late for work. I know I’m early in working with the next chapter, but my assistants were still expecting me to be there.”

            _“…I just wanted to surprise you, I apologize,”_ Haruhiko said in a way that could do nothing but break my heart.

            “Haru, I’m not mad at you,” I sighed.

            _“Maybe not, but I have clearly offended you and overstepped my boundaries,”_ said Haruhiko.

            “Look, I get it, you were trying to be helpful in your own way, but you don’t need to do that. You already know I like you”—

            I paused, feeling my heart rate sky rocket as I heard myself say such words out loud. Haruhiko went silent for a moment on the other line, and my stomach was ready to drop like an elevator on the top floor.

            _“I think I understand what you’re saying. There’s no further need to impress you,”_ Haruhiko stated, sounding more calm as he spoke.

            “Haru, you impress me more than enough.” I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the butterflies in my stomach. “Are we still going on that date tonight?”

            _“Yes, of course,”_ he answered.

            “Good, then I’ll see you after work,” I said, sighing in relief at how quickly this blew over, “Also, I hope you understand that I reasonably cannot keep everything. You gave me enough supplies to last the rest of my life if I never retire.”

            _“I can send someone over and put everything in a vault for you,”_ Haruhiko offered.

            _‘Why didn’t you do that at first?_ ’ I thought to myself, and then replied, “Sure, that’s fine. I’ll leave a key under the mat for someone to get it.”

            _“Great. They’re on their way now. I’ll see you tonight,”_ he said just as he hung up.

            I could only scratch my head as I absentmindedly searched for my spare house key, trying to process the surreal situation that had just occurred.

I had arrived to work by what would be an hour before lunchtime.

I peered into my office, trying not to disrupt my assistants. They had luckily been trained by this point to do work on their own in case of emergencies like these (which were more likely to happen when I was actually depressed).

            Kimura came up to me, clearly concerned as I entered the room. “Is everything okay?”

            “Yes, don’t worry about it,” I sighed, emptying out the contents of my bag. Inside were goodie bags of supplies for my assistants that I handed out to them. They were so in tune to what they were doing that it was like I wasn’t even there.

            Kimura hadn’t left my side. “Sensei, it’s nice of you to give your assistants presents out of the blue, but I hope that wasn’t the reason I had to receive a call from the Usami Corporation,” he whispered.

            I shushed him, looking to make sure nobody’s ears had perked up at the mention of the Usami household name. There was no use in denying it. “The gift was from the Usami Corporation, yes. A…friend of mine who is an employee there offered copic markers and what not, and the shipment order got messed up, so I had to stay behind.”

            I held my breath. It was such a terrible and vague lie that any normal person would find endless ways to interrogate me. Nonetheless, it seemed as if Kimura was more relieved there was nothing bad involving the Usamis.

            He furrowed his brow. “Sensei, you know that we could just help you out with those expenses. Please talk to us next time.”

            “I will, I’m sorry,” I said, finally taking my seat.

            At that point, Kimura had left me alone to attend his own secretarial duties. I glanced at my agenda, trying to create a timeline in my head of everything I needed to get done today and when.

            By the time I would normally leave, there was still one task left that I decided needed to be completed. I quickly shot Haruhiko a text that I’d be a little late, and was followed up right away with a reply that he understood.

            When I had actually finished, I packed up everything and was ready to run out of the office, planning in my head that I could have enough time to take the next train home and then meet Haruhiko wherever we decided.

            That was, until Ijuiin blocked my way, greeting me with his smug stature.

            “Yes, Isaka, I know. Kimura probably filled you in on whatever happened, but I finished what I needed to do today,” I told him, hoping that he would move to the side and let me out of the office.

            “Whoa there, I wasn’t asking about that,” Isaka said, raising his hands. _‘Bullshit,’_ I bitterly thought to myself, noticing that he still wasn’t budging. “I was just passing by to let you know that your date is here to pick you up.”

            I froze, immediately internally starting to panic. _‘Does he know already? Was it that obvious? Did Haruhiko tell him something?’_

            “Relax, Sensei, you’re so tense,” Isaka laughed, patting my shoulder until he rested his hand to tightly grip it and nearly dig his nails into my skin. “It’s not like you completely went against what I was telling you not to do, right?”

            My throat tightening up and failing to let me speak likely confirmed everything despite Isaka still forcing a big smile.

            “Because you know, if you are going to go against your boss’s wishes, at least do it in a way that not everyone is going to find out. The walls have ears, you know, and your circumstances surrounding being late to work today have gone noticed and are especially suspicious not only to the company you work for, but also the company he works for,” he said, then finally removed his hand as he finished with a huge smile. “You’ll keep these consequences in mind and take them seriously, won’t you?”

            I didn’t even look him in the eyes, as I simply walked into Ijuiin, forcing him to move aside.

            “Sensei, remember. I’m not just telling you this because as your boss. I’m telling you this as his friend,” he said, not stopping his words as I walked away.

            In the next hallway over, Haruhiko stood there, staring at his watch until he heard my footsteps.

            “Are you ready to go?” he asked me.

            “Yeah, I am,” I responded.

I tried to ignore the few staff members left behind who gave us odd looks. Nonetheless, I proceeded to walk alongside with him. I could feel his hand almost brush against mine, and it took all my willpower not to hold his hand in front of everyone.

            While Haruhiko had offered me a ride this time, I was surprised to see that there was no driver.

            “I don’t always like to be driven around,” Haruhiko said, getting into the car. “It’s a way for me to have a bit of alone time to myself.”

            “I see,” I mused, as I clicked my seatbelt.

Which made sense, as nobody can step into that mansion without being bombarded by maids and butlers.

            “Besides,” he went on, “I prefer to have you alone.”

            I felt like someone had just tossed my heart onto a drum, with it pounding so loud that for a moment, my worries didn’t seem to matter, hearing him say that.

            “Where would you like to go?” asked Haruhiko, snapping me out of my thoughts.

            “Right, let’s see…” I took a moment to think. “Let’s go someplace different.”

            “There’s a good place in Azabu*. I haven’t been there in some time,” he answered.

            “A-azabu!?” I stammered.

            “You know I can more than well afford it. Besides, we are going out on a date,” Haruhiko reminded me.

            “Yes, I know, but…”

            Brief images of business people that lived and breathed in fancy suits were the first thing that popped into my mind staring at my ugly four-o-clock shadow mug. The worries started crawling back into my mind.

            What if they recognized Haruhiko? The Usami Corporation likely did business there too, and given their infinite money, they could literally buy all of Azabu if they wanted. To see the eldest son of the Usami family dining out with another man on a date would be more than shocking.

            “Honestly, I’m not feeling fancy tonight. Can we just go to a family restaurant?” I requested.

            “I’m confused. I thought you said you wanted to go somewhere new,” Haruhiko replied, sounding slightly disappointed.

            “We could go to a different one,” I suggested.

            It took a few minutes after for Haruhiko to pull out his phone and search through the many family restaurants listed on Tabelog*, all the while completely turning his back towards me. He didn’t seem angry, yet he was still off.

             “There’s one not too far from here that has good reviews. Let’s go there.”

            All had seemed fine at first. It was a traditional diner-esque atmosphere, it was quiet and the service was good.

            And then we got our food.

            I had ordered a modest chicken sandwich and a cup of soup. Haruhiko had his usual burger, but it included a side salad put on the same plate, touching these big green bell peppers.

            “Haruhiko, you can still eat the burger,” I said, looking at an almost scowling Haruhiko staring at his meal.

            “I don’t like green peppers,” Haruhiko replied.

            “Then don’t eat them.”

            I had tried to eat in peace, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Haruhiko pulling my plate towards himself as he got out his fork, but then he paused when he realized I was watching him.

            “What are you doing?” I asked.

            “I’m giving you the green peppers,” Haruhiko answered, pushing the peppers onto my dish.

            I furrowed my eyebrows. “Haru, you don’t even know if I like them.”

            “Do you?”

            I sighed. “They’re…okay.”

            Haruhiko appeared to be more relaxed, pulling out his knife to eat the burger when he stopped again.

            “This burger isn’t tainted, right?” he asked me.

            “No, Haru. Your burger is fine,” I said.

            He raised his knife and fork again, only to lower them. “Actually, you’re not using your fork, right? Mine touched the peppers, if you’d be so kind as to switch…”

            Without hesitation, I handed him my fork, once again coming to the surreal realization as I watched this successful high tier businessman immediately recover from the green pepper incident and happily bite into his burger that this is the man I somehow ended up in a relationship with.

            Even then, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of happiness, taking brief moments to hold his hand during dinner while we were talking. I should have been scared and excited out of my mind for a date after what had happened the night before, but it already seemed like routine. Maybe it was because even though we were officially dating, nothing really changed much from when we were only friends.  

            Dinner had been over before I knew it, and Haruhiko had driven me home.

            As I got out of the car, Haruhiko had stopped me.

            “Is it okay if I come inside and make sure the boxes were cleared out?”

            I laughed, hearing his cute request. “Haruhiko, we’re dating. Even when we were friends, you never needed an excuse to come inside my apartment.”

            Haruhiko shifted his glasses, appearing to be flustered. “That is true…”

            Upon following me back to the apartment, I sighed in relief that the barricade of boxes in my living room had officially been cleared.

            “Thank you again for helping out on such short notice, Haruhiko,” I said, “I’m glad I can see my living room again.

            Haruhiko had appeared to be completely spaced-out, not even making eye contact with me.

            “Haru?”

            Haruhiko snapped out of whatever he was thinking about immediately. “Yes, I’m sorry.”

            I sat down on the couch and patted a spot beside me. “What’s wrong?”

            He stood, still refusing to look at me as he went silent for a few moments.

            “You’re starting to worry me,” I said.

            “Since we’re dating now, aren’t we…” He paused again, completely hiding his face this time. “I don’t think I can continue this conversation.”

            “It’s okay, you can tell me. I’m not going to be mad.”

            Haruhiko took a deep breath. “Aren’t we…supposed to have…intercourse?”

            I stared at him incredulously. “…A-are we?”

            “I’m unsure,” he said.

            Of course, my immediate thoughts were yes, he was a tall drink of water that I wanted to make filthy, and I hadn’t expected this exchange to come so soon. On the other hand, something seemed off about his tone of voice.

            I used the silence between us to take a long, hard moment to think, but my mind had been completely stunned. “I mean…Do you want to?”

            “Only if you want to,” Haruhiko said shyly.

            I couldn’t believe this was happening now, and I would have never expected it in such a left field way. “Haru, is it your first time?”

            “Yes.”

            “And you understand what this would mean if we take that step now, right?”

            Haruhiko seemed to sink into his shoulders a little bit. “Yes, I am aware that you seem to be more experienced in this department than I am. That’s why I’m asking.”

            I felt a slight twinge of guilt, cringing at my promiscuous younger years. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, though. Do you want to have sex with me?”

            Haruhiko nodded slightly. It felt good at least to know he had sexual attraction towards me, despite my already deteriorating appearance as I started the new manga chapter.

            “Right, and so do I,” I said, still trying to ignore my urges to just pounce on him, “But are you ready for it yet?”

            It took a long moment for Haruhiko to finally shake his head.

            “Then it’s like the green peppers right?”

            Haruhiko tilted his head to the side. “We’re not talking about green peppers, though.”

            “I mean more that like, I told you that you don’t have to eat the peppers. You also don’t have to do anything you don’t want to with me,” I said, hoping he understood this time. 

            “I see,” Haruhiko remarked, dejectedly sitting next to me as I reflexively put my arm around him. “As you know, I’ve never dated anyone before. My interests only extended to my work. The only other person I tried to pursue was Misaki, and I had no iota of what I was doing, or what was appropriate, so I only drove him away further. I thought dating meant giving presents, going out on fancy dates, and having sex, but I’m very confused. None of that turned out to be true, and I feel as though I could drive you away too.”

            _‘So that’s why he gave me all those presents and seemed so sad about going to that family restaurant,’_ I thought to myself.

            I delicately turned his head towards me to give him a long, deep kiss. He kissed back gently, and I gave him some space.

            “Haru, the fun about dating is that you can do whatever you want to. There’s no right or wrong way to go out as long as we’re together, so don’t be scared about making mistakes. I’m certainly way far from perfect, so I’ll make them too,” I told him. “So, tell me what you want to do.”

            His eyes almost seemed to glisten with tears, as he shied away further into my arms. “Can we do this for a little while then?”

            I held him closer, giving him a kiss on his scalp. “Of course.”

***Azabu is a super posh district in Tokyo.**

***Tabelog is also apparently the equivalent to Yelp in Japan. Thanks, Google!**


	8. Act 2:4 True Love is Like a Mirror

****

** A/N: ** **PLEASE READ FIRST SO THAT THERE IS NO CONFUSION. I decided that the last chapter of this act will be dedicated to getting Haruhiko’s perspective, so there’s that.**

**Also, I’ll repeat this in the end, but I’m going to start a side story of the more sexual moments called _Junjou Restart Plus_ , being that those scenes are M rated and I want to keep this story T rated. So, if you’re interested, I’ll indicate during these acts if there is a sexual scene that occurs. _In fact, there is a scene paired with the end of this chapter._**

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 8

True Love Is Like a Mirror

            When I look back, I’m unsure of what I was truly expecting.

            At first, the idea of stealing away Takahashi Misaki was a mission Father wanted me to put into action. I had gone along with it, regardless of whether or not I was going to fail. Perhaps it meant being worthy in my Father’s eyes, whereas he had seen me unworthy of living my own life while Akihiko was able to do so. Perhaps it meant showing Akihiko what pain felt like, as he was nearly able to cut off contact with our dysfunctional family with no qualms. Perhaps it was me wanting to know what true happiness felt like that was nonexistent in our family members.

            Then it took those simple words. Takahashi was resisting me with every conversation we had, yet he could still find the beauty in what I could put to creation.

            _“But you can design beautiful places like that aquarium. What a waste…”_

            Those words struck me, pushing me so far as to finally seek out more projects—starting with assignments from Isaka. I also found myself falling in love even more with him, despite my Father trying to sever my attachments and going so far as to arrange a marriage for me. Of course, neither of us wanted a part in this.

            Before I knew it, that mission fell so far off track that I had quietly turned against Father, showing my support for Akihiko and Takahashi. I was truly doing something of my own will, yet it didn’t feel like enough.

            **_“I wonder what one must do to gain the love of others,”_** I would still think to myself every so often, sitting in the shadows of a giant, complex house where it felt only I existed, reading my manga until they were “given away” as I drew the designs forming in my mind. My years of attempting to gain approval from everyone, going so far as to change myself when it seemed nobody would adjust to the strangely deplorable Usami Haruhiko had no fruition.

            Father certainly had no trouble discarding Mother and I after finding about my condition, as well as to hide my Mother’s status as a Mistress. He had only shown interest when my Mother had passed, as I had the grades to demonstrate my compliance as someone who could potentially replace the heir to take over the Usami Group.

Mother also had a habit of not saying much to me, other than muttered praises for when my therapeutic interventions were successful. I have a feeling she blamed my part in the separation from my Father, so her sudden passing and being switched over to the Usami household was the strangest, yet somehow the most painful adjustment.

For Sensei, well, that story does not need to be recounted.

Everyone else—servants, my peers, Akihiko, Takahashi—there was this strange barrier that was placed between us that could not be broken no matter how hard I tried. Isaka and Asahina were the ones that had truly tried to break down that wall as well, but still to no avail. Maybe it was because they were too busy with their own personal barriers toward each other.

But then there was him, who unknowingly walked around the barrier naturally.

I knew vaguely of Ijuiin Kyo. Research conducted on Misaki led me to the fact that he was his favorite mangaka. Being out of touch with the current manga world did not help with my familiarity.

Especially with his less pristine looks upon first meeting him, there was no way to know who this man truly was. I only could guess he was a passerby with an affinity for art, going so far as to make me lose composure with the first compliment I had been presented personally since the aquarium incident.

_“You’ve done a wonderful job bringing this museum back to life.”_

He had thrown me completely off balance, despite reminding me of my purpose in life once again.

 _“Well, it’s not my museum. I’m only the designer,”_ I could only say at the time.

_“That’s important, though. This place wouldn’t have looked impressive if someone else did it.”_

The only answer at that point seemed to be running away, regardless of my desire to talk to him more.

At that point, I had thought I would not see that strange, shaggy man again. Seeing him again a couple of days later at his work station, now clean shaven, showing off his drawing of my bear caricature while talking to Isaka put all the pieces together. After hearing those kind words from a mangaka who was admired by Misaki, how could I say no to allow his creative freedom?

I was beyond excited to see this character come to life. I had even attempted to secretly read every volume of _The Kan_ , before proceeding to eventually devour any other side projects he had worked on.

Father had found out I was reading manga again, but instead of reprimanding me, as I told him I was only reading to follow a character that I had inspired (which was the initial truth), he had decided to read _The Kan_ as well. This had prompted unexpected positive conversations that were not about work.

Slowly, I found the prototypes of designs I planned to propose had more life in them again, as the catering hall slowly started to look like café in _The Kan_. I had to show my gratitude by going to his booth a month later.

“Haru, I’ve never typed you as such a fan boy before,” Isaka teased me a few weeks after that.

“My Father wanted an autograph,” I said nonchalantly.

Isaka laughed. “You know that mostly women go to those things because they find him attractive, right?”

I furrowed my eyebrows. Indeed, he was quite the looker when he was well groomed, with voluminous jet black hair, mature blue eyes and a jaw-line that could rival a TV drama actor, but at the time, that was not the point. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing, Haru-chan,” Isaka said, patting my shoulder, “Anyway, I didn’t realize that you both get along. If you want, I’ll invite him to go out for drinks with us.”

Knowing Isaka, this was his strange way of trying to help me make friends. When he wasn’t fending the bullies off of me when we were children, he was always trying to assist me in socializing with others.

“Is Asahina alright with this arrangement?” I asked.

“Don’t change the subject on me, Haruhiko!” Isaka huffed, also clearly changing the subject as it was obvious Asahina did not want to go through our plan, “If Ijuiin Sensei says no, just tell him it’s my birthday. If he still refuses, I’ll just order him to come along, as I’m his boss.”

“Isaka-san, that doesn’t sound ethical…”

Of course, he had refused to listen and had went along his own path that I had reluctantly followed.

While our drinking social ended up being another way to talk to Kyo, I don’t think I had understood him even more personally than when we unexpectedly bumped into Misaki.

 _“It’s a surprise to see you, Takahashi-san,”_ I had greeted him.

 _“Actually, I work here now,”_ Misaki had said, turning away from him and towards me, yet still somehow keeping a far distance from both of us, _“My shift is about over too.”_

Somehow, Kyo had seemed uncomfortable by Misaki’s presence, his usual cool demeanor dissolving. **_Something about this moment had felt all-too familiar._** His sly smile had faded into a more troubling expression—as if he had wanted to call out, but could say nothing as Misaki headed off.

I remember blurting out my feelings for Misaki while intoxicated, likely due to this moment, as I could sense a commonality: rejection.

There was a nice familiarity to call be able to call him Kyo-san, and hear him call me Haru. However, it became too apparent that I had let my guard down immediately following.

What I had wanted to bury away had been brought to light when I turned around, regardless of whether he intended to find those drawings I could never bring myself to throw out. I would not let myself be taken advantage of again, especially by someone who potentially had feelings for Misaki, so I forced him out of my home.

The following week, I could not help but feel regret. I had obtained what felt like a piece of a puzzle that could join me, and I instantly lost that part. Isaka was the one who took note of this and brought it to my attention.

“You have this really bad habit of shutting people out unexpectedly,” he said to me, scathing tone getting right to the point.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I replied.

“Don’t think I didn’t realize that you’ve been moping all week. What even happened?” Isaka asked.

I swallowed nervously, trying not to evoke Isaka’s protective nature and bring up any unnecessary information. “There was a breach of my privacy that I did not feel comfortable discussing. He clearly had intentions of having a conversation about what he learned.”

Thankfully, Isaka knew not to press for further details.

“Did he mean to?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so, but he still should not have pried.”

Isaka sighed. “Honestly, Haruhiko, you both seemed to really hit it off. You can’t just let something like that go to waste.”

“His privacy was clearly violated,” Asahina chimed in, “That’s not exactly a boundary you can just ignore, regardless of whether he meant to or not. If anything, Ijuiin Sensei needs to be the one to apologize if he shows regret for his actions.”

Isaka threw his hands in the air. “Well, what am I supposed to do then? Wait? My best mangaka looks and smells like a corpse. The assistants are wearing masks to work because he’s so distraught over the whole thing!”

“Then he’ll just have to snap out of it. It’s not exactly fair for Haruhiko to reach out to him,” Asahina answered.

Deep down, I knew Asahina was right. It didn’t make sense for me to go out of my way for him. Yet, I felt that ignoring Kyo did not feel like the right answer. I still wanted him to like me, regardless of whether he was more focused on Misaki or not.

So I showed up at his apartment, and I had laid down my true feelings before apologizing for yelling. He had apologized as well, and I finally looked at him. Clearly, he had gone through the efforts of cleaning himself, but he appeared even more tired than usual, face thinner as if he had not been eating.

 _“You know, I don’t think of you any less.”_ He was likely referring to my autism. _“It doesn’t take away anything when you’ve been nothing but friendly to me.”_

I had been surprised by his response. I knew Tanaka had likely told him about this, but I had not expected outright acceptance. _“I try, but people do not tend to see me that way. They get upset when I can’t make eye contact, even though I’ve done a lot of work to help that.”_

He shook his head. _“I’m not upset. I can’t be upset at someone who’s helped me.”_

In an instant, the lights turned on. He told me of Kuma-dono’s success, and I saw the awe in his eyes when I had shown him the catering hall. Somehow I had felt strong mutuality, even if Kyo had wanted Misaki.

Maybe there was no point in shutting him out—so I told him everything, watching him listen to me all the while and eventually hold my hand when I had felt the pain of telling him my story. **_It was with that warmth that I may have felt the first feelings of love for him._**

At first, I was afraid that we would not see each other after that encounter. Yet, he was the first this time to have asked me to dinner. From that point on, we met for dinner whenever possible. I learned his schedule just as well as mine.

My love and obsession over him deepened, as when I was not reading the books in his library and planning in my head how to have in depth discussions over what I had read, I was doing any research I could on him—reading excerpts and interviews he was featured in whenever possible, such as the one he did with Akihiko. There were so many opportunities to ask him questions, especially the one still lingering in my mind about Misaki, but I could not help but feel it was not my place to do so.

Even so, I had asked him to celebrate my birthday with me, not realizing what would happen that day. This man that I truly knew nothing of, who also happened to be confirmed to have been in love with Misaki for similar reasons to my own, had kissed me suddenly—walking around the barrier once and for all.

I had never felt such heightened anxiety. I had finally obtained a romantic relationship, with no idea how to start. Yet, his patience had melted all of that away as he held me.

_“There’s no right or wrong way to go out as long as we’re together, so don’t be scared about making mistakes. I’m certainly far from perfect, so I’ll make them too.”_

“So Ryuichiro-sama’s assumptions were correct,” Asahina said to me the next day in his private office.

“I know it is unfair of you not to tell him, but I don’t think we’re ready to have that conversation yet,” I had told him.

Asahina sighed. “You know, I’m sure he’ll come around eventually. He was pretty harsh on Akihiko and Misaki when he found out about their relationship, too.”

“Was he really?” I asked.

“I think Ryuichiro just wanted to make sure Akihiko wasn’t being taken advantage of,” said Asahina, crossing his legs as he sat in the chair opposite of me, “Of course, that doesn’t seem to be the case here, but it would still be bad if word got out.”

“I don’t really care about that,” I stated.

“That’s exactly the problem.” Asahina took a deep breath, as if to calm himself. “Are you really going to be okay when your Father finds out about this? He tried to arrange that marriage for you before.”

Truthfully, I had been so lost in my own happiness that I did not put this much into consideration. “…I’ll deal with that when the time comes. Besides, I refuse to let him have any more control over my affairs,” I defended myself.

Asahina gave me a look of something more understanding. “I know, but you still need to be careful. Think of Ijuiin’s position too—he’s a great mangaka, but a fraction of his success is merit to him being single to the public. The same is for Akihiko as well, and that’s also why Ryuichiro did not approve of their relationship.”

I began to sink into my chair. I had also not considered the possible impact on my partner’s career.

“So please, do you realize now why you can’t pull that stunt you did yeseterday day with the supplies?” Asahina asked of me.

I nodded compliantly, and Asahina gave me a warm smile. “Haru, we’re not mad at you, okay? In fact, we’re happy that you found someone. Just, don’t get too carried away.”

            I knew Asahina and Isaka had their best intentions in mind, but I still felt dejected the rest of the day.

            _‘What should I do?’_ I thought to myself, _‘How do I not jeopardize everything I had worked so hard for?’_

            It became difficult to continue with the blueprints in front of me at that point.

            _‘Are we better off not being together?’_ I asked, my stomach turning at the thought of breaking it off.

            Just like that, I received a text from Kyo. _“I finished work early tonight. Are you available? If not, it’s okay, but just know that I’ll be busy with work for a couple of weeks.”_

            I had even almost forgotten about Kyo’s work cycle. This was my last chance to see him for a while.

 _“No, I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well at the moment,”_ I hesitantly replied back.

            There was an instantaneous response. _“Is everything okay, Haru? Do you want me to come over?”_

            I felt even more gloom with having to reject him. _“Yes, don’t worry about me. I’ll feel better soon.”_

            _“Alright, Haru. I’ll talk to you soon. Feel better <3”_

            I sat back in my office chair, not wanting to think about the feeling of his arms around me to calm me down.

            When I had come home that day, it was my Father who had greeted me.

            “Haruhiko, I’m surprised you came back home,” he said to me.

            I decided it was better not to reply.

            “You were gone all of yesterday, were you not?” he asked.

            “A 35 year old man can spend some time with his friends without being questioned,” I answered, trying to stand tall against him.

            At first he seemed taken aback, but then laughed. “Well, I am your father, and I just wanted to check up on you. Then again, Tanaka did tell me you’ve been quite the social butterfly as of late. I suppose that means everything is okay, then.”

            With that, he turned away, heading toward his chamber. I was ready to sigh in relief until he looked back at me again. “Oh, and Haruhiko?”

            “Yes?”

            “What’s it like being close to Ijuiin Kyo? He’s quite talented, isn’t he?”

            I shifted my glasses. “You’ve read his works, so of course you know he is.”

            Father smiled in a strangely crooked way. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, finally walking away as he mused to himself. “I wonder if he ever received my letter from a while back…”

            The next couple of weeks flew by, and I had managed to put all my focus into my work. The catering hall was near its next phase of completion, and my recognition started to bring in other projects.

            After finishing work, I got another text from Kyo. We had been texting back and forth sparsely, as I had wanted to keep my distance. Luckily, Kyo’s work cycle meant keeping his distance as well.

            _“Finally, I can relax for a few hours. How about dinner?”_ he asked.

            My heart skipped a beat. It made me almost happy that he was still showing interest in being with me. Yet, even so…

            _“I’m sorry. I’ll be staying behind working tonight.”_

            _“Haru, what’s wrong? This isn’t like you,”_ he said to me.

            My eyes widened. There was no way he could know. _“Nothing is wrong. I’m just busy, unfortunately,”_ I replied hastily.

            _“Let me see you for a few minutes, at least. I miss you. Please?”_ he requested.

            I took a deep breath. A few minutes could not be so detrimental.

            _“Where, then?”_

            _“Show up at my apartment whenever you’re done,”_ he answered.

            I had arrived at his apartment an hour later, to which he immediately opened the door before I could even get up the stairs. It was as if he had been staring out his window the entire time.

            Clearly he had been worried for even longer than two weeks, noting the increase in stubble on his face, longer hair, his red eyes with heavy bags that could sink to the floor, disheveled hair, and posture hunched over.

            Normally when we went out, if he was looking like his TV Drama self, I could take note of all the men and women watching his every step. I couldn’t blame them for staring; as there had been numerous times I had been caught off guard by his charismatic looks.

When he was his tired self, nobody else paid attention to him except for me. Even in that state, I still couldn’t help but completely find him attractive. 

            We stared at each other for a moment, until Kyo finally cleared his throat. “So, is everything okay?”

            I nodded. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

            Kyo scratched the back of his head. “Well, it just feels like you’ve been…distant.”

            “Have I?” I asked.

            “It might sound silly, but, normally you’re the one who texts me first to get together,” Kyo answered, his expression dropping to total sadness, “Do you not like me anymore?”

            I looked down guiltily. “That’s not the case at all.”

            “Then what is it then?”

            I still couldn’t look at him.

            He moved a little closer towards me. “Haru, please tell me what’s wrong.”

            I was trying to keep from trembling. “I just don’t want to get in your way.”

            Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kyo tilt his head. “I’m sorry?”

            “After some consideration, I did not realize that our relationship could damage your career. You work hard, and I don’t want that to happen to you,” I finally said.

            Kyo ruffled my hair gently. “Haru, don’t you realize that I wouldn’t have wanted this with you if I cared about what other people think?”

            “Really?” I gasped, tilting my head up to face him.

            “I mean, I’m a mangaka. My hours are hectic as it is, for one. In order to be with someone, I need to make sure they’re patient with my schedule—which you are. Second, I only look to tell my story. I know I’ll have loyal fans no matter what, so that’s not an issue,” he explained, then moving in so close his lips were centimeters away from mine, “Third, I’ve never wanted someone more than I want you.”

            He held me suddenly before giving me a warm kiss on my lips. “And I’ve been very deprived of you, I must add.”

            I said nothing, admiring his face before me as if it were shining more than usual; giving that sincere smile I knew was only meant for me.

            Kyo laughed suddenly. “Actually, it’s funny. I shouldn’t be acting all high and mighty when I’ve been worrying about the same thing.”

            “You have?” I asked.

            “Yeah, well, you’re an Usami, so even without your business, you already have a reputation,” said Kyo, “And I could’ve sworn after the aquarium, your driver was giving us the ultimate death glare.”

            It then suddenly came to me how my Father could’ve possibly known who I was spending time with. Any reports of affection meant he had to be suspicious of something, but I decided it would be best to tackle those concerns another time. I wanted to handle Father myself anyway.

            “Perhaps,” I admitted, “Or maybe he was jealous.”

            “He should be,” Kyo giggled, then returned to his serious tone, “Although, I thought that Isaka was going to kill me, too.”

            I sighed. So Isaka had given him the talk after all. “Leave him be. He’s overprotective and won’t actually do anything.”

            “I hope you’re right,” Kyo mumbled.

            As he turned his head, clearly deep in thought, there were so many things I wanted to tell him. I wanted to say how he didn’t need to save face in front of me whenever he was worried about something and hide it all with a smile. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me even with our short time together. But more importantly, I had a burning question.

            This time, I mustered up the courage to hold both of his hands, challenging myself to stare directly into his eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

            Kyo seemed to be taken by surprise. “Of course.”

            “All my life, I had been wondering what I must do to gain the love of others. How did I manage to get yours?” I asked.

            Naturally, Kyo gave me the brightest smile. “Because you’re Haruhiko, that’s why.”

            **_At that moment, it felt like my body was completely paralyzed, unable to move under the weight of a love I never imagined could come to fruition._**

This person who had known me for some time now willingly and truly wanted to be with me for who I am, and I had never thought that being myself would be the one thing that would be the answer.

             “Can I ask you something too?” he questioned, suddenly caressing my cheek with the back of his hand.

            “What is it?”

            “Would you be opposed to maybe trying something with me?” he asked.

            I shifted my glasses. “Something meaning what?”

            He put his hand over mine, and attempted to lead me towards the direction of the bedroom. “How about I show you?”

** A/N: ** **Thank you again for reading, and remember: if you want to check out _Junjou Restart Plus_ for the smut scene paired with this chapter, it should be available now!**

**One last thing: this is the biggest update I’ve done, and in such a short amount of time, but I can’t promise this kind of fast and large update every time. Everything depends on school and my work schedule, and things will probably get hectic very fast, but I am most definitely going to see this fic until the end.**


	9. Act 3:1 Secrets Need Friends, Too

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 9

Secrets Need Friends, Too

            That night, I had a very different kind of dream than what I was used to.

            _I couldn’t see where I was going, and I was becoming more and more tired. This cave seemed endless as it was cold, and all I had wanted to do was lie on the floor and sleep forever._

_Yet, a part of me wanted to keep walking, so I did._

_A few steps later, I heard a crunching sound._

_I knelt down to pick up the object. It was a tiny stick—likely a match._

_I patted the cave floor desperately, until suddenly I felt a piece of paper ready to fall between my fingers into the abyss._

_I held onto the match for dear life and lit it, and standing right before me was my father._

_I could see a rare smile on my Father’s face illuminating despite the darkness surrounding him. “I’m happy for you, Kyo.”_

            _Those words had warmed me so much that it had taken me a moment to notice arms wrapped around my waist. It wasn’t my Father hugging me, as he was still smiling brightly about a foot away from me._

_As I was ready to turn my body towards the figure affectionately holding me, I was met with a flash of sunshine._

Before I realized it, the sound of my cell phone had jolted me awake.

            I was ready to crawl out of bed, only to realize that there was a weight on my body. Haruhiko had his arm wrapped around my waist. My grogginess immediately subsided upon remembering what happened the night before.

            I tried to be careful as to not stir him from his deep sleep, gently lifting his arm so that I could quickly answer the phone in the next room over.

            “You’ve reached Ijuiin Kyo,” I yawned, “How can I help you?”

            _“Kyo, I’m surprised you answered.”_

I sighed. “Hello, Mother, I’m surprised you called this early.”

            _“It’s only 7AM—it’s not that early.”_

In that moment, I looked around to see sunlight clearly brightening up the apartment.

            _“Besides, you know better than to sass your mother like that,”_ she lectured me.

            I rubbed my eyes. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been staying up lately trying to get my work done.”

            _“You always had trouble getting your sleep cycle set straight. When are you going to sleep normally, Kyo? You haven’t been a kid for 17 years now.”_

“I know, I know,” I said, trying to keep my tone cool.

            _“By the way, I’m still waiting on your answer. You never called me back,”_ she said.

            “My answer for what?” I asked.

            _“You said you’d think about coming to visit, remember?”_

            _‘Oh, right,’_ I thought to myself, _‘That was before I went out for Haruhiko’s birthday, and right when we”_ —

            I paused; tip toeing into the next room to see Haruhiko was sleeping peacefully. I could only think about how I desperately wanted to get back into the position where he should’ve been holding me.

            _“Hello? Kyo?”_

            “Yes, I”—I cleared my throat. “Actually, if I do, may I bring someone?” I requested.

            I could imagine clearly my Mother smiling on the other line. _“Oh? Does this mean my Kyo has finally found someone to go steady with?”_

 _‘I hope so,’_ I thought, then asked, “Is that a yes?”

            _“Well, you know I’ll have to meet this special someone, so of course. Seriously, Kyo, I knew right when you refused to tell me about your date,” she said as a matter of factly._

“I’m sure you did,” I muttered.

_“Anyway, I hope you know this means that you’re actually agreeing to come home for a few days.”_

            “I’ll have to consult with my assistant about when I can head over, but yes,” I said.

            _“Okay, Kyo. Please tell me when. Love you.”_

“Love you too.” I hung up then.

            I couldn’t tell what emotion I was feeling. Excitement? Fear? Both?

            My Mother would be accepting of our relationship—that definitely was not a problem, although she would have a hard time dealing with the fact that he is a member of the Usami family.

            Of course, I was also cursing myself for getting way too ahead of myself and not thinking to ask Haruhiko first before volunteering him.

            Even then, the meaning of going back home was really burned in my mind. I also couldn’t help but feel as if something had been pulling me towards going home after all this time.

            I was ready to crawl back into bed, only to find Haruhiko was already awake.

            “Who was that?” he asked groggily.

            _‘Tell him when he’s more awake,’_ I thought to myself as I put my arm around him. “Just my mother.”

            Haruhiko moved in closer, his head resting on my chest as he was clearly still sleepy. I ran my hand through his hair, petting him gently like a cat. _‘I’m sure it’s okay if I let him stay like this a little longer,’_ I thought.

            “Sure, that’s fine,” Kimura said to me as he combed through my schedule. “In terms of your cycle, I can see you taking off around then and not hurting production.”

            “Thank you,” I said, ready to begin the new day.

            “Oh, wait, before you go,” Kimura called to me, “Someone called asking for you.”

            “Who was it,” I asked, trying my best not to furrow my eyebrows. _‘Is it Haruhiko? I thought we talked about this.’_

            “A man by the name of Usami Fuyuhiko.”

            I froze. That had to be Haruhiko’s father.

            Kimura put his hands on his hips. “I mean, if I can ask, what’s your affiliation with the Usami family? I know sometimes their son conducts business with Isaka, but after the supplies mishap, this definitely doesn’t make sense.”

            I tried to come up with every possible lie at that moment, but there seemed to be no way of avoiding trouble.

            “Sensei, you understand where I’m coming from, right?” Kimura said to me.

            “I’m well aware, I apologize. Isaka has already spoken to me about the situation, and I will do my best to assure this doesn’t happen again,” I said as calmly as possible. “Anyway, what does Usami-san want?”

            “Something about getting dinner tomorrow at 8 at The Extravagent in Azabu. I wrote it down, hold on,” Kimura answered as he handed me the paper. Sure enough, there was an address and everything.

            “Thank you,” I replied automatically, finally turning to walk into work as I tried not stir in my confusion.

            When the work day was over, I found a couple of texts from Haruhiko.

            _“I apologize for leaving so suddenly this morning. I didn’t want to be late for work. Otherwise I would have stayed a bit longer,”_ he wrote to me.

            I smiled. The only truth I knew amidst the confusion was that Haruhiko was utterly adorable. _“You don’t have to apologize. I had to get ready as well, too.”_ I continued to write another message. _“I’m free for a bit until the next chapter starts to really take off. When are you available?”_

By the time I had packed up everything, my phone vibrated again. _“Unfortunately, it seems I need to stay behind for the next few nights. Can I get back to you if I happen to be free?”_

            I had felt slightly disappointed, although it was a good thing he wasn’t free tomorrow night. At least this time I knew Haruhiko wasn’t avoiding me. _“Of course. I’ll see you then.”_

I used the restroom before leaving, and managed to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked like a total wreck. There was no way I could look like this tomorrow, so I made mental notes to clean up before heading into work.

            Thankfully, I had taken the train next day into work, as I was greeted in the hallway by a mysterious man wearing all black. I was given no time to be freaked out by his presence, as he had already began ushering me.

            “Right this way, Ijuiin-Sensei,” he said to me, “Usami-sama is waiting for you.”

            I swallowed. Today had already been a chaotic day with drawing new plans for the next chapter, so it was easy to forget who I was having dinner with.

            “Sure thing,” I said, looking around to make sure nobody was staring at us as I followed him out the door and towards the parking garage, silent all the while.

            “He didn’t have to pick me up. I would have just taken the train,” I told the driver, who gave me a blank expression.

            “Usami-sama doesn’t have time for that. This is a matter of urgency,” he replied, opening the car door for me.

I couldn’t eat even a spoonful of soup. My stomach felt as if it were full of stones. Slowly, I could feel myself sinking into the ground, taking the chair with me as I watched Usami Fuyuhiko calmly and cheerfully eat his dinner.

            I tried not to stare too much. Here before me was the head of the Usami Corporation, treating me to dinner at the famously named restaurant The Extravagant in one of the richest districts in Tokyo with all the big named business men surrounding our vicinity.

I also happened to be dating his son—which I had to say, I never would’ve guessed that they were even related on a first glance (although they ate their food the same way).

            He began to dab at his mouth with a napkin, and I wasn’t ready for whatever was going to come out of his mouth.

“I know this is an odd way to call you over out of nowhere,” Fuyuhiko finally began, “But I am a fan of yours, after all, as is my son.”

            _‘Stay calm,’_ I told myself, _‘Try thinking of him as a fan, then. This will be easy.’_

            “That’s alright, I understand. It’s not exactly the first time I’ve had a fan try to reach out to me for dinner,” I laughed, giving my best TV Drama smile.

            Fuyuhiko did not seem to be impressed, however. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?” he asked. “Their broth is excellent.”

            I stared down at the bowl. All I could see was thick, muddy water. “No, I ended up eating a bit late to meet a deadline. I apologize for not saying so earlier,” I lied.

            He smiled. “That’s quite alright. I’d be nervous, too, if I were in your position.”

 _‘In my position? What does that mean?’_ I asked myself.

“In fact, I should be the one that’s nervous, being in the grace of someone as talented as you are,” Fuyuhiko beamed.

 _‘Maybe this will go okay after all._ ’ I bowed my head. “Thank you, sir.”

“I do mean it. Your way of drawing and use of language makes reading manga fun for old geezers like me,” Fuyuhiko chuckled, and then took a sip of his wine. “That reminds me, did you ever get my letter?”

“Letter?” I questioned, and then it suddenly came to me. “Oh, yes—Kuma-chichi—that’s you, right?”

Fuyuhiko seemed delighted, almost clapping his hands together. “Yes, I wasn’t sure when it would get to you. I was on a business trip in England at the time. I figured I’d write you a letter before I forgot to.”

            I sighed slightly in relief. So far, this was going well. “What made you decide to meet with me of all people right now, if I may ask?”

            “Well, the reason why I’m here, other than to nab a chance of meeting the famous Ijuiin-Sensei, is to get to know better the person my son has been seeing for some time now,” he answered.

            My heart rate started back up. “Yes, we became friends a while back. I happened to be looking for inspiration in one of the museums he redesigned—and he did a fine job at it,” I said honestly.

            “Yes, he’s always had this hobby for art,” Fuyuhiko spoke curtly.

            Something had felt odd about the way he said that. What about any of this made Haruhiko’s work a hobby? I decided to not open that can of worms, taking a sip of water instead to calm my nerves. “I’ve seen some of his drawings. His style is very elaborate and he shows a lot of talent as well.”

            He gave me a subtle smirk. “It sounds like you two are really building off of each other’s work a bit with how much you both admire one another.”

            “I would agree with that,” I confirmed.

            “It just surprises me, is all. I’ve never seen my son so social before. Even though he is close to the neighbor’s son, I’ve never seen him not spend a night at home.”

            _‘He definitely knows,’_ I thought, trying not to panic. “Well, to reiterate, your son and I do have a common interest for art and manga, so between his work and my work, there’s much to discuss.”

            “Yet, I’m sure you can understand my concerns, since I am his Father, after all,” said Fuyuhiko, “I’m unaware of what you know of our relationship, but I’ve always known Haruhiko to be a delicate boy, and he has always needed special attention due to his condition. His mother had moved out with him while he was young, and came back once she passed away. Even though there was long gap of time where I was unable to be in his life, he had never been rebellious towards me, until very recently.”

            Thinking about it, I had known very little of their relationship, other than tiny mentions. There was a hesitation surrounding discussion of his Father, and being in the same boat as him, I didn’t think it was fair to press him. “I can only guess that something has changed, but I’m not sure what,” I replied vaguely.

            “I can only gather it’s all due to the lover of his brother, Akihiko. You remember him, right? You both had that interview together. Maybe you even know his lover, as he works in Marukawa as well—Takahashi Misaki?”

            I nodded, resisting the urge to wince at the sound of his name. “He has delivered manuscripts to me from time to time.”

 “I figured. Anyway, that’s a whole other issue altogether. I had tried to test Takahashi-kun’s loyalty to Akihiko, but instead it ended up being that Haruhiko fell for him. I had tried to dissolve whatever was going on with his feelings until it went too far. I even arranged a marriage between him and a girl on my wife’s side of the family. Yet, ever since then, he’s taken on all of these projects without my consultation. Last I heard, Haruhiko even supports his brother’s relationship,” he explained, scoffing at the end. “Basically, everything I have tried has not worked out, and there’s not much more I can do.”

            _‘Arranged marriage? I heard nothing about that.’_ I could already feel my head spinning, but nonetheless, I did not break eye contact. _‘I’ve heard nothing about any of this.’_

            “It sounds like he’s trying to take action for himself,” I reflected.

            “Maybe so, but it doesn’t explain Haruhiko picking up manga again after all these years, or suddenly socializing outside of work to the point of not coming home at night,” Fuyuhiko stated. “I wouldn’t have thought our relationship to have been so deteriorated that I have to hear from my driver that he was cuddling you in the back of one of our cars.”

            There was no denying it. I should’ve known better that the driver was not on our side.

            He laughed suddenly. “I know it sounds like a wild accusation, but it is quite concerning. You’re a manga artist, after all. Admirable as you are, such a lifestyle would be too hectic for a relationship, even though everyone may think you have a handsome enough appearance to get away with it. Sometimes.”

            I couldn’t believe the turn this conversation was taking. “I’m sorry?” I could only reply, ignoring my blood boiling.

            “Well, you and my son are roughly the same age. If you’re not trying to settle down, I’m sure there are others willing to go down the same route,” he said nonchalantly.

            It took all my strength not to clench my fists and flip the soup bowl at him. “Those are also some other odd, baseless accusations you’re throwing around, sir,” I said, voice level enough to flatten the Earth.

            At that moment, the waiter passed by, check prepared as if he were instructed to do so for this very moment. Fuyuhiko handed him his card, a natural extension of his body.

            “I think we’re done here, as I’ve said what I needed to. Would you like to take your soup home?” he offered.

            “No,” I answered. “It’ll probably go bad the next day.”

            “That’s fair. Make sure to take care of yourself. I’m sure before coming in here, it looked anything but that. You apparently have a reputation of looking disheveled when under immense stress,” Fuyuhiko said, continuing to scathe me before he got up from his chair.

            “Hold on,” I called to him. “Your intention was to get to know me better, but it doesn’t seem as if that was accomplished.”

            “You’re right, I shouldn’t have been so vague,” Fuyuhiko said, “What I meant to say was that I already know what you are. My son is already fragile—he doesn’t need whatever baggage you’re carrying with you. I may not be able to talk sense into him anymore—but I won’t hesitate to find a way to force _you_ into a decision.”

            With that, he vanished, leaving me standing at the table with the driver ready to take me home—feeling like nothing but scum of the Earth. 

            The very first thing I did when I got home was fall onto my bed, letting my dull heart sink into the mattress.

            _‘So this is what Isaka was talking about,’_ I said to myself, burying my face in the pillow.

            I had so many questions. The petty side of me wanted to ask first about the arranged marriage. I doubted the relationship really mattered so much as his Father trying to have that much control over his son’s affairs.

            In an odd circumstance, I actually pitied Usami Akihiko and Misaki, as clearly his Father had tried to tear them apart too. 

            Most of all, I was angry at myself for not speaking up. I had wanted to tell him that Haruhiko was more than capable of making his own decisions. I wanted there to be some way I could assure him I had never been so sure in my entire life that I had wanted to be with someone despite my past.

_“My son is already fragile—he doesn’t need whatever baggage you’re carrying with you.”_

            The worst part was, I knew deep down he was right about me.

            Of course, he wasn’t right about Haruhiko, as I admired him partly because I knew how strong he was. Yet, I felt that I could be bringing him down, and he didn’t deserve that.

            I rolled over and hugged another pillow close to my chest. This wasn’t my first rodeo when it came to relationships, but the other ones weren’t serious like what I had now. Even then, those affairs had fizzled out for various reasons. I had never seriously considered ending a relationship due to my inadequacy until now.

            _‘End it?’_

            It was the scariest thought in the world, but it was the only thing that made sense.

            _‘We haven’t been together that long. It’ll hurt a lot, but the earlier it’s done, the better it will be.”_

            I wanted to hit myself. When had I ever backed down just because someone had stepped in? Wasn’t that what Haruhiko’s Father wanted in the end? I had waited so very long for who I thought was the true love of my life—there was no reason to give up now.

            There was an angry fire in my heart. It almost reminded me of back when I had been trying to push through Usami Akihiko to get to Misaki, except this time Haruhiko was already mine, and there was no losing him to anyone.

            Besides, I already made a promise to bring home someone to my Mother for the first time. (In which, I still needed to ask Haruhiko if he wanted to go.)

            Right then, Haruhiko texted me.

            _‘Good evening. It turns out I’ll be available tomorrow. Would you like to have dinner with me?”_

            I smiled. Haruhiko asking me out first always managed to make my day brighter—even when we were just friends.

 _‘Sure. Choose wherever you like,’_ I instantly replied, hopping off the bed to shower.

            I felt an odd satisfaction, feeling the hot water rain on my skin. For once, I had a real reason not to back out. _‘I’ll show you who’s baggage!’_


	10. Act 3:2 Don't Dive in the Water (If You Can't Swim)

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 10

Don’t Dive in the Water (When You Can’t Swim)

            The next 24 hours came and went with the sound of a snap. I had found myself so involved in what I was doing that the only time I had snuck a glance at the clock was when my assistants had been long gone. From there, it was a trip straight from work to a date.

            Oddly enough, it did not seem that my partner was sharing in my enthusiasm, barely returning my kiss as we met together. He only muttered a few words when we sat down, and then poked at his food when it came as if it were all one giant green pepper.

            Yet, I stood there, talking up a storm for once as I tried to keep a calm face the more I started to contract whatever anxiety Haruhiko was feeling.

“Haru, is everything okay?” I finally asked.

            It seemed like Haruhiko had snapped out of whatever he was thinking of at that moment.

            “Yes, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

            “You haven’t eaten anything. That’s not like you,” I pointed out.

            He stared down at his plate, hand shaking a bit as he adjusted his glasses. “I suppose you’re observant. Nonetheless, I assure you I’m fine. I’ll get over it.”

            I frowned. Clearly he was nervous. “If you think I’m going to laugh, I’m not. You know I wouldn’t.”

            “Well…I won’t be seeing you for a good bit. Our new client will be having us busy for some time.”

“I’m sorry, Haru. I’ll be working hard, too. It’s almost time for what I ‘love’ about working the most,” I said.

“That’s true, but…” Haruhiko took a deep breath. “This is going to sound silly, but I’ll be taking the subway for the first time by myself in a couple of weeks. I have a meeting on the opposite side of town, and I decided that instead of driving, I wanted to do this for myself.”

            I sighed in relief. For a moment, I thought it was something worse. “I mean, I’m proud of you for doing this on your own, although I know it can be…unnerving if you don’t know where you’re going. Have you ever taken the subway?”

            Haruhiko nodded. “One time I did for a meeting at the Teito Hotel, but I don’t really count it as taking the subway by myself. I was very nervous then, too. Actually, it was the very first time I met Takahashi-kun, and he was the one who assisted me.”

            “Oh.” I took a sip of water as if to drown out the millions of questions flooding my brain about that certain someone. “Do you at least know how to get there?”

            “I’ve been studying maps, schedules and alternate routes the entire day, but I still feel as if it’s not enough,” Haruhiko sighed.

            I tried not to chuckle at how much he was over-thinking everything. “How about I help you learn how to navigate, then?”

            “That would help, but I also want to be able to do this by myself.”

            “I don’t have to meet you there, but you can at least text me if you feel like you’re lost. That’s not considered cheating if I’m not physically there with you,” I suggested.

            At that point, Haruhiko’s shoulders finally fell from below his ears. “I suppose that could work.” There was a slight red hue to his face as his eyes met with mine. “Thank you for helping me—even though it’s not really a huge ordeal.”

            I snaked my hand towards his, gently holding it. “It doesn’t matter. I’m your partner—this is a part of what I’m supposed to do.”

            I took a moment to then scope the room for any prying eyes. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if Usami-san any spies in our vicinity, but immediately I decided that falling back on paranoid thoughts would be the worst thing I could do to ruin this moment.

            “I have another idea,” I spoke suddenly, still holding my hand in place. “Are you hungry at all?”

            Haruhiko shook his head.

            “Let’s wrap up your food and take it back to my place. Stay for the night since we won’t see each other for a while, and you can have it for lunch tomorrow,” I said.

            Haruhiko nodded immediately in agreement. “That sounds good. Unfortunately, I’m not exactly one to eat leftovers…”

  * -



Over the next week or so, Haruhiko had become completely silent on his end. There were a few texts here and there, but he had otherwise noted being busy. Being someone that was ready to nose dive into another Hell cycle, I knew very well not to disturb him—especially because he gave me the same respect when I needed it.

And then I had shown up at Isaka’s office to share my progress thus far with the new chapter.

“I must say, Ijuiin-Sensei, you definitely are on a great streak,” Ijuiin remarked as I finished discussing my plans.

“I appreciate it, Isaka-san. I’ll go and proceed with the chapter, then.” As I turned around to leave, it had suddenly occurred to me—why exactly was Isaka the one asking for my progress when my editor had already told me to continue?

“Actually, Ijuiin-Sensei, there’s another reason why I asked you to come see me.”

 _‘And there it is,’_ I thought to myself nervously. _‘What could I have possibly done this time?’_

“Is it about that one shot Kimura relayed to me?” I asked.

“No, but I hope you have at least considered the offer,” Isaka said.

“Depends. It wouldn’t be done for the new magazine issue—especially because I’m fitting some time once the new chapter is finish to take a few days off,” I replied.

Isaka had then folded his hands together, giving me a low snarl. “And that’s precisely what I wanted to talk about with you—this trip of yours that Kimura told me about.”

I looked around nervously. I didn’t think this would cause such a problem. “Well, you do always tell me that I should try to take more time off for myself when I can. With a big chunk of days like that, I figure it’s a good idea to head home for once.”

Isaka seemed confused. “Head home?”

“I live all the way in Akita,” I answered.

“Oh…” Isaka leaned back in his chair. “So that means you’re not cheating on Haruhiko, then?”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “What’s this about, Isaka-san? I wanted to take Haru—I mean, Haruhiko—in the first place.”

Isaka seemed to have backed himself into a corner, and then coughed loudly. “Then perhaps I may have misunderstood the situation.”

“Isaka-san, what are you talking about?” I asked, slowly drawing near the desk.

Isaka raised his hands in surrender, almost covering his head. “Okay, okay. So, this morning, Haruhiko called me to schedule an appointment for designing a set. One of our publications may be getting a drama, but it’s not finalized. Being that Kimura already let me know of your little vacation, I then asked Haruhiko if we minded having a meeting after your trip, because I figured it would be easier for his schedule if he was going with you or if he was planning on seeing you. Turns out he didn’t know about your trip, so then I may have…said some things that were out of line. Regardless, I see now my judgment was clearly incorrect.”

“Is that why Haruhiko hasn’t talked to me over the week?” I asked, trying not to seethe between each word.

“No—I told you, we talked this morning. He’s been too busy otherwise,” Isaka answered quickly.

“I’ll clear up the whole thing, then.” I felt my entire body completely unlock from the tension raging through my veins.

As I was ready to leave the office, I turned my head. “Oh, by the way; I hope this is proof that you should really stay out of our affairs. It’s entirely inappropriate for a grown man and a Chairman, no less, to jeopardize someone’s relationship,” I barked at Isaka, then shut the door behind me promptly.

With my back against the door, I immediately took out my phone and sent Haruhiko a quick text. _“Isaka-san just called me in to me about your conversation from this morning. I’m not sure what he told you, but we both talked it over, and I told him it’s a trip to head back to my hometown in Akita. Speaking of that, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”_

After a moment of silence, I decided to send another text in a quick panic. _“I know you’re busy, so just tell me that you got this message. If you want, we can talk about this when you’re not busy.”_

By the time I had reached the elevator, I had gotten a modest _“Okay”_ from Haruhiko as a quick confirmation.

  * -



Yet, there was still more radio silence even after that text. I found myself becoming increasingly anxious each day. I was thankful that I had so much work on my plate, because when I wasn’t doing that, all I could do was pace internally and go over every possibility as to why Haruhiko has said nothing. I knew he had a job to take care of, but my intuition told me that there was something more. 

But it wasn’t until I was knee deep into the Hell cycle that I had sent out a text before heading into work.

_“Hello, Haru. Just making sure everything is okay. Work is hectic here, so I’m busy too. I hope to hear from you, though.”_

I was unable to check my phone until my lunch break, when I had gotten a surprising text.

_“My Father says I should refrain from speaking to you. I’ll be following his advice until you confront me.”_

My eyes widened. His Father decided to tell him that we met? _“Haru, I will gladly meet you. Just tell me where.”_

It wasn’t until after finishing for the day when I checked my phone that I noticed I received a text from Haruhiko.

_“I have a meeting. Meet me after 7 at the following station.”_

            I read the name of the station and coincidentally, it was the one nearby.

            I took a deep breath. _‘Well, I guess that means he wants to talk. That’s a good thing, right’_

In the end, I decided to suck in my pride. I couldn’t take the silence anymore, so I was ready to seek Isaka’s mediation. He had to know what was happening.

            That was, until I managed to take the elevator at the same time as another certain person I hadn’t planned on seeing for a long time.

            “Please hold the door!”

            I obeyed, and before I even realized it, it was Misaki who had rushed into the elevator, carrying a couple of bags.

            He looked at me curiously as the doors closed behind him, likely unable to recognize me momentarily through my homely appearance until it suddenly hit him.

            “O-oh, hello, Ijuiin-Sensei!” Misaki greeted me, slowly moving away from my direction cautiously, “How have you been?”

            I was more relieved that my heart had no reason to beat faster around Misaki, other than the fact that I could tell he was still nervous being in my presence, creating a domino effect.

            “I’ve been alright. I’m just about ready to finish the new chapter, so I’m about to consult Isaka,” I said with a swift half-lie.

I could see him eying the floor numbers on the elevator. My ego decided that there was no need to ask him if he’d caught up on the new volumes when I already knew the answer. “I’m surprised you’re still here. Are you working overtime?”

            “No!” he answered quickly, “I mean, I just need to deliver this to Yokozawa-san.”

            “Ah, okay. He likes everything done timely, so I’ll let you take care of that,” I said.

            “Oh, he’s not _that_ bad—or at least not like everyone said he used to be. So far I’ve had no issues with him,” Misaki assured me.

            Right then, the doors opened, and Misaki was ready to bolt out of the elevator. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you soon, Sensei!”

            As he seemed to walk out in slow motion before my eyes, I decided to make a major and almost impulsive decision.

            “Wait, Misaki,” I called to him, following him out onto the floor.

            Misaki seemed to almost jump out of his skin as he noticed me walking towards him. “Y-yes?”

            “Let me walk with you. If it’s alright, I need to talk to you about something quickly. It won’t take long, I promise. We can just take the train together until one of our stops comes up.” Technically, I needed to go Downtown, but this was still an excuse to get a bit of time with Misaki, nonetheless.

            Misaki was in full defense mode at this point, holding the bag in front of himself as a shield.

            I sighed. Clearly just that much wasn’t going to cut it. “I’m not going to do anything weird, okay? I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven, but I am sorry for my unprofessional behavior. Personally, I would prefer to leave everything in the past, and I hope you feel the same.”

            Misaki seemed to lower his guard a bit, although he was still putting a lot of space between us. “…Okay. Let me hand this in and we can talk for a bit.”

  * -



            “So, what did you need to talk to me about anyway?” Misaki asked me when we had left the office together.

            My mind suddenly blanked at that moment. I didn’t think I would get this far, so I was unsure of how to start.

            “Well, you and Usami-Sensei have been together for a long time now, right?” I asked.

            “…Yes?”

            I could feel my anxiety ready to betray my calm demeanor. “That means that at some point, your families had to have known about your relationship, right?”

            “Actually, I’ve just had that conversation with my brother for the first time,” Misaki answered.

            “Did you really?”

            “He was very accepting of the situation, although he was very shocked at first. I don’t think he would’ve ever found out if it weren’t for his wife having more of an…intuition. She was the one who convinced me that it would be okay to tell him,” he explained.  

            “That’s good to know he was accepting,” I said.

            “He’s still asking a lot of questions, but that’s just because he still sees me as his baby brother.”

By that point, we had reached the entrance to the subway, heading down the stairs together.

“What about Usami-Sensei’s family?” I questioned.

“They already knew long before. Most of them have been okay with our relationship. I think even his Father is hopefully coming around,” Misaki answered.

 _‘Okay, this should be easy enough to dive into,’_ I thought. “What happened with Father?”

“I think he grew to trust me the longer I was with Usami-san. There was a lot of tension at first, as he thought that I was using his son, and I think because he knows how his son can be a bit…overbearing with me.”

 _‘You don’t have to tell me that twice,’_ I thought bitterly to myself.  

“I guess he just sees that we’re in a serious and committed relationship, and that we make each other happy,” said Misaki, “Or at least, I think he trusts me more than he used to. He still has tendencies to butt in at times because he’s the Father, but I think it’s because he wasn’t involved in their lives when they were younger. It’s like he’s trying to make up for lost time.”

 _‘All of that makes sense. I guess it’s all a matter of showing Usami-san that I’m not going to hurt Haruhiko,’_ I thought.

It felt like somehow, a small weight was lifted off of my shoulders. Now all I needed to do was just regroup with Haruhiko, and see if we could work through our spat.

We had already entered the check point, waiting for the train to come at this time.

“Anyway, I didn’t realize you take the train Uptown. It turns out I actually need to go Downtown, but thank you for the conversation. It was very enlightening,” I said cheerfully to Misaki.

Misaki seemed to scratch his head. “Well, I’m not sure exactly what I did, but I’m glad to be of help… Why did you need help again, though?”

“As repayment to answering my weird questions,” I said, trying to ignore the last part of his question, “Let me at least pay for lunch some time.”

“I’ll think about it,” Misaki said hesitantly, then turned his head towards someone in his periphera, l vision. “Oh, Usagi-ani! What are you doing here?”

 _‘Usagi-ani?’_ I thought, then looked to see that he was in fact referring to my partner, standing right there way ahead of schedule at the station he asked me to meet him at.

We both froze, staring at one another for a moment as the next train rolled up to the platform, the wind from the speeding train blowing through our hair as if a dramatic showdown was ready to happen.

Misaki seemed to look back and forth between us, trying to make sense of the growing tension until Haruhiko swiftly made way in the other direction.

“Wait, Haru!” I yelled, running after him and leaving behind a very confused Misaki, “Please come back—it’s not what you think!”

“Don’t talk to me,” Haruhiko grunted, pace escalated to a jog. He had managed to conveniently hop onto train before the doors closed in front of me.

Misaki had likely boarded the train as well, leaving me alone in my space to mope.

~ ~ ~

About 10 minutes later, I got an unexpected text from Haruhiko.

_“Please help. I don’t know where I am right now.”_

It had then just occurred to me that Haruhiko had told me how he was taking the subway for the first time on his own. He had likely gotten lost.

 _“Where were you trying to go?”_ I asked.

_“I’m not sure. I was supposed to be at the station where you were, but then I got on that other train and stayed on there until it completely stopped.”_

I sighed. Poor, Haruhiko was probably too overwhelmed to move at this point. _“I’ll come get you. Just stay where you are and tell me the station.”_

~ ~ ~

            About another twenty minutes had passed by the time I reached Haruhiko.

            He looked defeated by the time I approached the bench where he was sitting, not even bothering to look at my face.

            “Mind if I sit here?” I asked.

            I decided to take his lack of a response as a sign to stand where I was.

            Right then, the train heading back to the direction of the other station approached the platform.

            “Follow me, at least. That’s the train we need to take back,” I directed him.

            He reluctantly got up from the bench, only to walk past me as if I did not exist.

            This time, I made sure to get into the same car as him. I did decide, however to give him a bit of space, holding on to one of the poles near Haruhiko’s spot despite there being some empty seats in the train car.

            It took a number of spots before I built up the courage to try and talk to him again.

            “Haru, please let me explain, I”—

            “What is there to explain?” Haruhiko grumbled.

            “I was just asking Takahashi-kun for help. You know I don’t feel anything for him anymore,” I said.

            Haruhiko still refused to look at me. “Yet you asked him to go to lunch with you.”

            “It was an offer for letting me talk to him and making up for the past—that’s all. I needed advice because he was in the same boat as us,” I explained.

            “But why are you even talking to him when you should be talking this over with me?” Haruhiko snapped.

            A number of people turned their heads to look at us. I forgot for a moment that we were still in public—albeit on a train. I wondered briefly what it must like look in a situation where a rugged looking man was angering a well-suited business professional.

I held my breath. I hadn’t seen Haruhiko this angry since the incident with the drawing. “Haru, calm down please. People are looking,” I said, raising my hands  in a protective stance.

            “How can you expect me to be calm?  I shouldn’t have had to find out from  Isaka that you were going on a trip that I knew nothing about. I shouldn’t have had to find out my Father himself that you both met while he’s holding onto the fact that you didn’t tell me about your meeting. And most importantly, I shouldn’t have to ‘accidentally find out’ that you’ve been talking to Takahashi-kun behind my back.”

I sighed. “I know I screwed up. I just…didn’t know how to tell you. I know that’s not a good enough reason, but I was just so in shock by the whole encounter.”

            “Then tell me anyway, regardless of what he said to you. Admittedly I had my suspicions that he knew of us, but I hadn’t expected him to outright confront you. It’s important that I know this. Even though my relationship with my Father is strained, I still know how he operates best,” Haruhiko explained. “We’re not supposed to deal with him separately—we’re supposed to do it together.”

            I tried to meet his gaze, but he was persistently staring at the floor. However, Haruhiko ended up letting me sit next to him. “Tell me, then: is he trying to scare me off because it’s still the beginning, and there’s no reason to trust me yet?”

            “That sounds accurate. Although, while I can’t imagine what he’s said to you, I imagine there was a lot of harsh judgment. Unfortunately, you’ll have to prove him wrong,” Haruhiko answered.

            “Would you believe it, then?” I asked.

            “Believe what?”

            “Every negative word he said to me.”

            Haruhiko started rubbing his hands together, as if to calm his nerves. “I can only hope it’s not true. I want to believe that you aren’t another Sensei. Then I hear that you were making these plans that I knew nothing of to happen right after your cycle, seeing my Father out of nowhere, and I find you talking with someone that you supposedly fell out of love with. You promised me I would learn more about you, and there has been no progress on that statement. Of course I would define all of that as strange behavior.”

            It felt like I could break into a million pieces hearing those words. The last thing I would’ve ever expected and wanted was to be seen as that monster from long ago.

            ‘ _My son is already fragile—he doesn’t need whatever baggage you’re carrying with you.’_

            I could still feel the wrath of his icy tone between each word, cutting into me even as I carried that memory in the back of my mind.

            _‘There’s only one thing I think I really can do here,’_ I thought.  

            I was nearly out of time. We were the only ones in the train car, but I knew that we were almost back at the starting point. At least nobody was staring at us anymore.

            “Then, let’s start now with you coming on that trip with me next weekend,” I said after taking another additional moment to think.

            Haruhiko finally looked at me, albeit with a puzzled expression. “Why do you want me to come now?”

            “Because I was going to ask you in the first place. That’s what I wanted to ask you earlier. I already told my Mother  and she wants to meet you, and I think you could get more answers at my home,” I told him.

            “Let me see what my schedule looks like first, and then I’ll get back to you.” His eyes drifted off to the side, as if deep in thought. “If anything, I’m sure I should be able to go.”

            I feigned a smile, trying to reach out to gently touch his face. He moved back from my advancements, and went so far as to put my hand down.

            “I’m still upset.”

            “I know,” I sighed, retracting my hand. “I promise you, Haru, I’m going to make it up to you this time.”

            At that moment, we both got off at the station we originally left. On cue, as the doors opened, he turned to me once again.

            “If you’re going to make promises, I expect you to hold up to them.”

With that, Haruhiko had left my side, almost rushing towards the outside world as if he was about to suffocate as his Father’s words continued to swim around angrily in my mind.  

  * -



_Interlude_

            Akihiko couldn’t take the silence at the dinner table. The more Misaki seemed to sigh, or otherwise open his mouth to say something and then hesitate before swallowing down his unspoken words with bites of food, the more irritated Akihiko became.

            “Well? Do you have something you want to tell me?” Akihiko inquired.

            Misaki immediately averted his eyes, face falling as if realizing at that moment that he could not mask his emotions. Yet, he still attempted to eat his food.

            “Misaki,” Akihiko prompted, lowering his eyes, “Did something happen?”

            “Uh…” Misaki put his hand behind his head. “Not exactly? It’s more like I’m confused by something.”

            “What, then?” Akihiko asked.

            “Do you know if your brother is…seeing anyone?”

            Akihiko’s face contorted into the most deadpan expression. “Huh?”

            “N-not like that!” Misaki spoke quickly, putting his hands up in defense, giving himself a moment before lowering his voice, “I just mean that I think he’s dating someone.”

            “Good, it’s about time,” Akihiko said, casually sipping his wine.

            Misaki fell back into his chair. _‘That was all he had to say?_ ’ “I’m surprised you’re on board with this,” Misaki remarked.

            “Why wouldn’t I be? As long as he’s not fawning over you anymore, I don’t care what he does,” Akihiko replied, “And you shouldn’t either.”

            “Yeah, but I just wonder if it’s true. I also can’t help but wonder when your Father is gonna find out—or if he already knows. I just feel bad, is all, since Haruhiko supports our relationship.”

            “That’s inevitable,” Akihiko sighed.

            They both got up suddenly, cleaning the dishes off of the table in silence until Akihiko gave a more thoughtful response to his worried lover as he started the hot water.

            “I think Haruhiko and, whoever he’s with; will be okay in the end. Haruhiko’s been starting to grow a spine around our old man. As long as his partner does too, he’ll eventually learn his place.”

            Misaki’s posture seemed to relax. “If you say it’s fine, then, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said, passing the dishes to Akihiko. “Also, make sure that sponge is clean and has soap in it.”

            “Yes, Sensei,” Akihiko said with a bright smile that easily made Misaki red in the face.

            Aside, Misaki may have also been a bit less anxious since he had finally been able to convince Akihiko to let him teach him life skills, such as various chores. Of course, that was in exchange for certain sexual acts.

            “So, do you know who it is?” Akihiko had asked after a moment, cleaning the inside of the ceramic mug in his hand.

            Misaki refocused, remembering his task to clean off the table. “Who it is?”

            “The person Haruhiko is dating.”

            “Oh,” Misaki said, clearing his throat, “Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s, uh, Ijuiin-Sensei.”

            Right then, Misaki had to teach Akihiko a new life skill—how to clean up broken glass.

**A/N: And on that note, there’s also a new chapter of _Junjou Restart Plus_ that takes place in the beginning of Chapter 10.**


	11. Act 3:3 Love Shouldn't Have to Be a Mystery

_**A/N: And back to Haruhiko’s perspective! I felt it was more suited for the kind of content in this chapter. ** _

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 11

Love Shouldn’t Have to be a Mystery

            I’ve come to realize that I’m a little too patient when it comes to certain things.

            I know how to be assertive and push for what I want, just like I had with Misaki and then with Kyo.

Yet, there are moments when I find myself hesitant to push any further, and I allow time to work itself out, be it in my favor or not.

I realized this after our first morning together, when I had awoken to find Kyo talking on the phone.

 _“Who was that?”_ I had asked him.

As if nothing had happened, he got back into bed with me. _“Just my mother.”_

And all I could think in that moment as I tried to rest my eyes again was that despite my plea to know Kyo better, even through our intimacy, I still knew nothing of him or his family.

. . .

            I also know I’m a little too patient with my Father’s antics, even after all these years.

            “Haruhiko, I’m surprised to see you at such an hour,” he had said, exiting his study in time to meet me.

The night before, I had gone out with Kyo and ended up staying the night in his place again, then headed straight to work. I hadn’t seen Father at all until this moment, meaning that it had been over 24 hours since we spoke to each other.

            “And I’m surprised that you came home before me, Father, since your new project is supposedly taking up so much of your time,” I had said to him bitterly.

            “Well, let’s just say that I had another matter to take care of,” he had stated dishonestly as he passed by. “Anyway, enjoy your little outings while they last. Soon you’ll realize that your partner isn’t exactly fit for a relationship.”

            “Just what are you inferring?” I asked.

            He turned away as if to leave my line of sight. “Why don’t you ask him about our little one-on-one session?”

Before I could ask anything, he had shut the door behind him.

Thinking back, I should’ve known that he would’ve asked me to work later that night before, in exchange for him meeting with Kyo in private. Embarrassingly enough, I was probably still so worried about the subway trip I needed to take for the interview that the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind to double check with my Father’s secretary.

            I had thought back to our date the night before. Despite having a meeting with my Father, he had appeared his usual self. This was not a situation I would know my Father to lie about, yet it was odd that Kyo never told me anything.

            _‘Last night, we even…’_ I thought briefly of our passionate session together. _‘How can he act like as if nothing is wrong?’_

            I slipped my phone back in my pocket and again decided to be patient in hopes that he would tell me for himself.

. . .

            Of course, Isaka was always none the wiser when it came to this kind of thing.

            “Haru, I hate to tell you this, but your old man kind of has a point,” he said. “You don’t just meet the Father of your lover and then say nothing.”

            It was a couple of weeks later, and while I didn’t like playing the waiting game, it didn’t help that he and I were both busy. Technically, I should have already been at work at this time, but Isaka and Asahina happened to have no meetings in the morning, and the silence was too much for me to take.

            “I just don’t understand why having a conversation with my Father didn’t compel him to tell me about it,” I said.

            “I’m guessing your Father didn’t drop any hints either just to be petty,” Isaka sighed, spinning around in his chair a bit.

            Aside, Asahina gave me a subtle look as if to say that he had warned me previously. “Did Ijuiin even know about your Father’s ruthless behavior? I’d imagine if I met such a man out of the blue, it would be quite paralyzing.” 

            “…No, actually,” I admitted, “That’s something I’ve never talked about with him.”

            Isaka groaned and laid all the way back in his chair. “Geez, you kids sure need some help! You can’t just hide things from each other like that.”

            Asahina sneered at Isaka in a way that only I could imagine what message he was trying to convey.

            I looked down guiltily. “I didn’t expect this kind of intervention so soon. I realize now it was partly my mistake, too. Normally I’m a bit better at communicating my needs, but I suppose I’m worried about scaring him off.”

            “I can say with certainty that given what we know after working with Ijuiin for all this time, he’s a very persistent man who wouldn’t just let go of you,” Asahina assured me.

            “In the meantime, it’s not going to work if you’re both beating around the bush to talk about important stuff—and he’s definitely got to work on that more,” Isaka chimed in, “For example, I bet it took him a while to tell you about that trip he’s taking.”

            I stayed still as I felt a rush of anxiety ready to overwhelm me. “…What trip?”

            Isaka and Asahina glanced at each other.

            “That cheating son of a”—

            “Ryuichiro-sama, please” Asahina hissed in such a way that made said man sit down. He turned to me. “I’m sure there’s some sort of an explanation.”

             “I’m just saying that sounds suspicious is all,” Isaka grumbled. He reached for the phone. “I should call him in right now”—

            “Stop scaring Haru,” Asahina commanded, practically lunging for the office phone.

            “But that’s so weird, isn’t it? They just both happen to be busy, so this is the perfect time  to slip out and have a bit of fun unnoticed, right?”

            “He’s working on the new chapter and should be done in a couple weeks’ time,” I said, shifting my glasses nervously despite my confident demeanor. “You’re his boss, yet I know his schedule better than you do.”

            Isaka and Asahina stared back in shock. “You really are the stalker type, aren’t you Haru,” Isaka remarked.

            “And this is why I told you to not jump to conclusions,” Asahina sighed, “See? Everything is under control.”

            “Okay, fine,” Isaka huffed, then mumbled, “I’m still gonna have a talk with him, though.”

            I couldn’t help but smile. At least above all else, I could count on Isaka and Asahina’s wisdom on the matter—likely due to their experiences together as a couple for many years.

Yet, as I left the office, I felt a creeping sickness ready to devour me.

There was no way he could be seeing other people behind my back. His schedule was too tightly packed, for one. Second, I knew his feelings for me were genuine. Three, there was nobody else he could possibly like.

_‘Except Misaki.’_

I swallowed. Kyo has gotten over Misaki, so that could not be it, either. Even then, there would be no reason to abandon our relationship.

_‘Yet now your Father knows, and this has likely changed the playing field.’_

The sick feeling was starting to make it hard to breathe as my head filled with thoughts of them together, or even thoughts of him unexpectedly leaving me without warning.

. . .

            By the time I had gotten to work, I had gotten several texts from Kyo.

            _“Isaka-san just called me in to talk to me about your conversation from this morning. I’m not sure what he told you, but we both talked it over, and I told him it’s a trip to head back to my hometown in Akita. Speaking of that, there’s something I wanted to ask you. I know you’re busy, so just tell me that you got this message. If you want, we can talk about this when you’re not busy.”_

            I sighed in relief, instantly making the connection to when his mother had called a while back. _‘Thankfully it’s not something terrible.’_

            Right below, I saw a text from Isaka. _‘Well, I guess you were right. I’ve still got my eye on him, though.’_

            “What’s this now, texting on the job?”

            I almost jumped, hearing the sound of my Father’s voice behind me.

            He laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell. I am your boss, after all.”

            We had entered the elevator. Noting that we were the only two inside, he moved close to me in case someone would barge into the elevator at any time.

            “By the way,” he whispered, “I would take your friend’s advice, and even step back a bit from your relationship.”

            I should’ve expected that he would read my texts. “What are you talking about?” I asked.

            “If he truly wants to confront such an issue, there should be more urgency in the matter—not passively letting you choose when to meet. That’s a man whose pace varies with his convenience,” he answered. “It’s like asking a partner what they want to eat, but instead leaving the decision up to you as a way of forcing you to take responsibility because they ‘don’t care’ and they ‘would go anywhere you like’.”

            I should’ve expected such a twisted perspective on my Father’s part, but somehow, it wasn’t hard to digest. “…Why are you even reading my texts?”

            “Because I happened to see them, and I am your Father,” he said, just as the elevator doors parted on my floor, “And also because you’re not careful enough. You should really be focusing on your work. Then you wouldn’t have to call in late.”

            He waved to me as I exited the elevator. Somehow, I felt that he was right. Maybe it would be better to detach a bit until he was ready to break out of his passiveness, or take further action if the path I was on meant that I would likely be hurt once again.

. . .

            Again, I played the waiting game. After that series of texts, there was nothing substantial on Kyo’s end.

            I found myself growing more and more impatient. Part of me had wanted to reach out—especially because I was ready to embark on the subway by myself.

            He had told me on our last date together to text me if I was lost, but I felt like I was doing well for myself, making sure to memorize the stops and routes.

            It wasn’t until I had reached the platform that I had realized how close the entrance to the station was to Marukawa Publishing.

            And there I saw Misaki and Kyo talking together. My fears were realized as Kyo had asked Misaki to lunch, and I couldn’t help but bubble with anger, watching our scenes of intimacy flash before my eyes, and walk away even as Kyo ran after me.

The rest was history, all I could remember was fighting angry tears as I tried to push the thought of Kyo giving up on me, or trying to already replace our relationship out of my mind. I couldn’t believe that I had said I would consider going on a trip with a man who had also touched me, yet clearly wanted to remain a stranger to me.

. . .

            That was, until I had managed to clear my schedule for that weekend. I gave Father my notice and claimed that it was another interview trip for an architecture project.

Through all this, I hadn’t expected to somehow accept Kyo’s offer of a trip.

I had picked him up in our limo before stopping by at a flower shop to pick up sunflowers as an offering for Kyo’s mother, and we drove off to the airport.

I had expected him to converse about buying sunflowers for his mother, or even refuse them, but all he could say was that, “They looked nice,” and that, “She would love them.” I also had expected him to protest the fact that I was adamant about wearing my suit, but he simply told me do what I felt was most comfortable.

Even at the airport and on the plane ride, there was utter silence—even on his end.

Between moments where I had forced myself to sleep, I had noticed a couple holding hands, laughing and talking excitedly next to us. I couldn’t help but think that’s what our first trip was supposed to be like—that it was how we were _always_ supposed to be like. Yet here we were, unable to even make small talk.

I felt a dull pain at the sight of seeing those lovers happy, but all I could hear was the various reminders to put my foot down about all of this, that nothing would be solved if I just give in.

 _‘Give in to what?’_ I had asked myself, _‘It’s been so long. Is there a better way to talk about this?’_

I had hesitantly started the conversation when we had gotten off the plane and into a cab. It was already dark out.

“Who will be home when we arrive?” I had finally asked.

“My Mother should be,” he said.

Now that I had finally looked at him, I noticed that he had likely groomed himself for his mother. Yet the bags under his eyes seemed so heavy that it looked like he hadn’t slept since our meeting in the subway, or even before that.

“…What about your Father?”

            There was a long moment of silence, and then Kyo answered lowly, “He won’t be home.”

. . .

About a half an hour later, we passed by many hills to reach the city area. We pulled in front of a modest, brown paneled house a small amount of space and trees surrounding it.

I paid the cab fare, and we took or luggage out before trekking up the path towards the front door.

As if she had been waiting there the whole day, Kyo’s mother immediately swung open the door.

I hadn’t expected Kyo’s mother to be so tall that she had to bend slightly to successfully get out of the door. Her hair was also black like his, yet she had dark eyes. She seemed like she could pass as his older sister, despite the wrinkles forming where her mouth was.

            “Kyo!” she shouted excitedly, reeling in her son for a hug within seconds. “I can’t believe you showed up!”

            “Yes, neither do I,” I heard Kyo mumble as his mother continued to latch onto him.

            “It’s only been like what, a million years since you’ve last seen your old mother?”

            “I get it, I get it,” Kyo said sheepishly, finally mustering the strength to pull away from his mother.  “I missed you too, mother.”

            “You better have!” his mother said with an angry tone that betrayed her smile. “Seriously, you’ve put this off for way too long.”

            She leaned over sideways to look at me, as I was hiding behind the flowers. “And who’s this handsome man with the fancy suit?”

            My heart stopped. I somehow felt safer with the flowers in front of my face.

            “Mother, this is Usami Haruhiko—my boyfriend.”

             She seemed absolutely shocked. “U-usami!? As in your family is part of _the_ Usami Corporation?”

            “Actually, my Father is one who owns the company,” I replied.

            Her face turned white hearing those words.

            “Mother, relax. They’re not yakuza like you think they are. Trust me on that much,” Kyo assured her.

            “He’s right, although we have unfortunately dealt with yakuza on our turf before,” I joked, although that probably did happen at some point.

            Only Kyo laughed, while his mother looked ready to faint. “He’s just kidding, Mother. Come on, why would I bring him home if that were true?”

            His mother pressed her fingers against her forehead. “Alright, I understand. You really scared me for a moment.”

            She moved aside to allow us room to get in the house. “Well, come on in. I imagine you both are hungry, so go unpack while I start cooking.” She turned to me with a smile. “What would you like to eat, Yakuza-san?”

            “Me?” I asked, and then managed to recollect my thoughts, “Well, I like most anything as long as there are no green peppers. I’m not yakuza, though.”

            It seemed like she didn’t hear me as she went into the kitchen, and I couldn’t help but feel as I had already ruined my time here.

            Then I felt a warm hand rub my shoulder.

“She’s joking too, Haru. Don’t worry about it,” Kyo said reassuringly, patting me on the shoulder as he headed inside before me.

            His mother walked back out of the kitchen about a few seconds later and reached out to grab the flowers. “These are very lovely by the way. I really do appreciate the thought,” she said to me before walking into the kitchen with the sunflowers.

. . .

            We had unpacked in silence.

            I kept sneaking glances at Kyo, who hadn’t made eye contact with me since we had entered the house. I couldn’t tell if the tension between him and I was getting to him, or if it perhaps concerned his mother. This look of stress on his face was unrecognizable to me, and he had worn it once I had asked him about his father.

            Yet, Kyo seemed pleasantly surprised as he stared at the tonkatsu and rice sitting before him at the table that had already been served by the time we finished putting our clothes away.

            “You’ve really…went all out, haven’t you?” Kyo said to his mother.

            His mother put her hands on her hips. “Is there something wrong with that? You ‘re still my son, after all,” she retorted. She gestured to both of us. “Anyway, let’s eat!”

            I picked up my chopsticks and took a small bite, letting the flavors of the pork melt in my mouth with a most pleasant taste. All my life I had either dined out, or had something prepared for me by personal chefs with exceptionally high skill. Yet, this had somehow tasted different—eating a home cooked meal. Even my Mother had never accomplished such a fate, as she also had personal chefs come to the house via my father’s services. I couldn’t believe I had missed out on such a small, yet important staple that my family had only ever called “commoner food.”

            His mother stared at me worriedly. “…Is he okay, Kyo?”

            Kyo smiled at me as I continued chewing. “Of course he does. Believe it or not, he looks very happy right now.”

            I hesitantly nodded in agreement as I continued eating, while she seemed relieved.

            “So, tell me,” she said after taking a few bites, “How did you boys meet?”

            We looked at each other, and I felt the tonkatsu stick to the walls of my throat. I had expected the questioning, but not this soon.

            “It was my boss who introduced us,” Kyo answered simply, “Sometimes when I’m in a rut, I take pictures of places to give me ideas. My boss had suggested that I go to this museum in town, and it happened to be the one that he designed.”

            “Designed?” his mother asked, then glanced at me, “I thought you work for your Father?”

            “Yes, but this is just a side hobby of mine. I have an affinity for architecture,” I replied.

            “If you ever visit, I should show you what he’s done so far,” Kyo vouched for me, and then his eyes lit up as if he had a grand idea. “Actually, aren’t you still working on that catering hall? Would you mind showing my Mother the pictures?”

            I obediently took out my phone and opened up my photos folder, then handed it to his mother, who starred in awe as I flipped through each one.

            “Wow, it looks gorgeous!” she said excitedly. “I’d eat here even if the food was terrible!”

            “It should be done soon, hopefully. I believe we’re on the final phase.” I gave Kyo the phone. “I didn’t get to show you these yet, but this is some of the new work we’ve done.”

            Kyo’s eyes brightened as he glanced over the photos. “It looks amazing, Haru.”

            I blushed, quietly putting the phone away in my pocket.

            “I bet you draw inspiration from him, don’t you Kyo?” his mother asked.

            “Of course I do. He always inspires me.”

            I felt my heart flutter. Even through my retained anger, I had quickly realized that none of it had really mattered in the end. What really mattered was what had brought us together in the first place, and remained as our foundation; our never ending admiration and inspiration, and our friendship.

            “Y-your son also inspires me, too. A lot of the work I’ve done on the catering hall is thanks to his manga, in all honesty.”

            “So were you always a fan of Kyo’s manga?” his mother questioned.

            “Once he made a character based on me, I became interested.”

            Kyo’s mother raised an eyebrow. “…Character?”

            “It was sort of by accident. I’ll show you later,” Kyo chimed in.

            “Oh! So that’s Kuma-dono?”

            Kyo stared in disbelief. “Wait, you’ve been reading _The Kan_ the whole time!?”

            “Why are you so surprised? What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t read my son’s hard work?”

            Kyo was about to open his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it.

She then laughed off Kyo’s reaction, musing to herself. “Now I understand why he wears a suit and salmon tie—because you wear a suit, too!”

            I tilted my slightly head to the side. “The fact that he’s a bear is not confusing to you?”

            “Well, I get that now too. You kind of remind me of a bear, now that I think about it,” said Kyo’s mother.

            I tried not to furrow my eyebrows. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

            “Well, you’re about as tall as me and Kyo, for one, and that’s saying something. Also, I can tell you’re very attentive and loving to my son, and you have a blunt nature.” She seemed to backpedal for a second as I gave her the same, confused expression. “Not that a blunt nature is bad, I think it’s a great thing, actually! It means you’re straight forward and get to the point. I think we need more people like that.” She looked back at her son. “You could learn a thing or two about being direct from him, Kyo.”

            _‘Blunt?’_ I thought to myself. _‘Am I really that overt?”_

Kyo sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

            Kyo’s mother couldn’t hold back a giggle. “At least I can see now you’re definitely both the perfect match.”

            Even though those words were more assuring, I stayed quiet after this conversation ended. I felt as if at this point, I was going to be misunderstood.

. . .

            Dinner ended peacefully, and I ended up helping Kyo’s mother wash the dishes while Kyo cleaned off the table.

            As I attempted to mimic Kyo’s mother while she washed the pots, I felt shaky again. I felt as if I needed to talk with her about our conversation during dinner.

            “Ijuiin-san? I feel like I need to tell you something.”

            She looked right at me.

            I lowered my gaze shyly. “I-it’s not like I mean to be blunt…” I nervously shifted my glasses, as I wanted to choose my next words carefully. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression, or if I seem off.”

            His mother put her hand on my arm. “No need to apologize, dear. Didn’t you hear me at the table? I think that you’re a great match for my son, and I’m happy to have you.”

            I exhaled. Seeing her smile at me eagerly as she said this completely dissipated any negative thoughts that I had. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

            “Although, I must say that it’s not every day an Usami uses a sponge on their own, am I right?” his mother teased me, pointing to my less than spectacular job at cleaning the dish in my hand, then gestured her head towards where Kyo was. “Actually, I shouldn’t just pick on you, that’s not fair. This one over here could use a little Cleaning 101 himself.”

. . .

            I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was until I had laid against the mattress.

            Kyo emerged from the bathroom, and for the first time during the whole trip, we were really gazing at one another, but still at a loss of what to say.

            “I would like to talk to you,” I said hesitantly.

            “Alright.” He slowly sat next to me. “What’s up?”

            “I don’t want to be angry at you anymore, so I forgive you as long as you promise to continue to keep working towards communicating better,” I told him.

            His expression softened. “Of course I’ll keep trying. I know it’s something I need to do better at, too. Can I ask what made you change your mind?”

            “Well, you did bring me out here, and it’s been lovely meeting your Mother,” I answered honestly. “You know I also worry about you, and so does she—especially when you won’t say what’s on your mind.”

            Kyo stayed silent for a moment, and then took a deep breath. “How about tomorrow, if my Mother isn’t going anywhere, I’ll take you for a short drive somewhere with her car. Then I’ll be able to answer any questions you have.”

            “Are you sure?” I asked. I hadn’t expected his offer for full disclosure to come on so quickly.

            “I am, but I just need a little more time before I feel ready,” he said, then smiled sadly as he cradled my face with his hand, “You know that’s one of the things I love about you, right?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “That you’re straight to the point,” he said, kissing me on the top of my forehead. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

            “Proud of myself for what?”

            “For making this random weirdo that you called out at a museum want to be a better man.”  He leaned over me as we kissed, and I found myself pressed against the mattress the pressure of weeks with no intimacy.

            Before he was ready to dive in for more, we froze as we heard footsteps outside of the room that slowly passed us.

            Kyo no longer seemed in the mood, so he resigned to rolling off of me and sticking to his side of the bed. “Somehow I’ve forgotten that we’re not home alone,” he muttered.

            “It’s alright. To be honest, I’m tired anyway,” I admitted.

            With that, we both got under the covers and cuddled close until we drifted off to sleep.

. . .

After some tossing and turning, I realized that I couldn’t sleep. The problem wasn’t that the bed was uncomfortable, but at some point during the night, the bed had somehow felt empty.

            I opened my eyes, and even with my shoddy vision, I could see that Kyo was not in bed with me.

            I sat up in the bed, and it turned out Kyo was not in the room at all. What I did hear was Kyo and his mother talking downstairs.

            I approached the stairs, where I had been unexpectedly able to overhear their conversation.

            “I just don’t understand why you were avoiding me all this time,” his mother said. “It’s not like we never supported what you wanted to do.”

            “That’s not”—

            “Then why?” she asked, “There was no reason to leave me here by myself, and you know it.”

            “Mother, I was already in the middle of my project. I would’ve just been your otaku son if I stayed behind,” he replied as calmly as possible.

            “But at least you would’ve been closer to me instead of having to take a plane just to come home ‘whenever you have the time’.”

            “Then you should’ve moved,” he pointed out.

             “You know I can’t do that, Kyo…”

            “Okay, then it’s unfair of you to pin this on me like I’m the bad guy.”

She sighed. “It just really frustrates me when you act like you’re the only one who got hurt.”

            “Of course I know I’m not the only one!” He seemed to finally break down a bit. “I just couldn’t stay. I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

            There was a bit of silence, followed by a few sniffles.

            “I’m not mad. You just really scared me, is all, leaving the way you did,” she finally said.

            “I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

            “I’m your Mother—I have to.”

            I inched closer to see that they were in a tight embrace that seemed to make up for years of lost time.

            I felt relieved that they were able to resolve their conflict—even though I was still left in the dark on that subject.

            Yet, there was a strange feeling I felt that made my heart feel heavy. I could only imagine it as envy, as even though there were clearly problems, this was the parental relationship that I had desired for myself, as their love and affection for one another sufficed despite everything.

            As they broke away, his mother looked to see me at the top of the stairs. “It looks like someone wants a hug, too.” She patted Kyo on the back. “Off with you, now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

            Again, there was a pregnant pause between us as his mother went up the stairs and went to her room.

            “Sorry I woke you up,” he apologized, gently taking me by the hand to our room. “Let’s go to sleep, okay?”

            Even in the darkness, I wondered if he could see how concerned I was. “Kyo…?”

            “I promise you I’ll stay in bed this time.”

            I sighed and closed the door behind me. Perhaps it was better to wait until our trip tomorrow before trying to obtain any answers from him.

** A/N: ** **So uh, happy unexpected holidays! (Sorry it took this long.) Anyway, expect a fluffy one-shot for New Year’s of these boys soon. See ya!**


	12. Act 4:4 There are Many Types of Love, and all Are Everlasting

_** A/N: ** _ _**Welp, back at it again. Happy very belated birthday to me. See the A/N at the end for more info, enjoy!** _

_Junjou Restart_

Chapter 12

There are Many Types of Love, and all Are Everlasting

            _I remember the last time I saw my Father, I was packing my bags. I could hear the creaking sound his wheelchair made as it came closer to my room._

_“So this is it, huh? I suppose I won’t be able to stop you.”_

_I could feel his gaze burning into me as I checked over my luggage. Thankfully, I wasn’t bringing anything with me other than my clothes and a futon. I figured I’d just buy the other necessities once I moved in to my new apartment._

_“Deep down, I shouldn’t even try to hope you’ll listen to me. I know all I’m doing is holding you back, even if I force you to stay. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did that, yet…”_

_I slammed my suitcase shut after waiting a brief moment for him to finish his sentence, and he didn’t even flinch, as if expecting my reaction. “Yet, what?”_

_“Well, for one, I’m just very worried about you, Kyo. You’ve had enough of a hard time taking care of yourself as it is. At least your school was a little closer so that your Mother and I could swing by. But this is…quite the move.”_

_“Please don’t bring up University. That was then, and this is now,” I said, gesturing to my suitcase. “Besides, I’m an adult making adult decisions now.”_

_“I see that, but…” He sighs. “Nevermind. I’m just being selfish. I may be old, but I still remember what it was like to go through the motions at your age, and I also want what’s best for you. I’m just not sure if this is it. You’re more than talented enough, but I can’t stand the thought of such an unforgiving industry eating away at you.”_

_I finally looked him square in the face, not even bothering to read his somber expression “If you’re saying I’m talented, you should believe in me more. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected until I finally found the one place that actually wants me? This job is all I’ve ever wanted, and now you’re telling me to back out so I can stay home and do nothing with my life—like I have been for too long now?”_

_“That’s not what I’m trying to say.” My Father managed to hold together his patience. “I’m saying that this is a job that’s going to eat up all of your free time with no breaks, and I’ve been there. It’s exhausting. When you work, you work until you’re finished. Forget sleeping well, or eating right, or having any friends, or even…seeing us. You already don’t do the first few things.”_

_“Why are you acting as if I haven’t thought about that? It’s not like I’m gonna be some sort of recluse in the mountains. I want to make a name for myself—all I want is to tell my story, so stop thinking I’ll end up like you,” I snapped._

_I let those last words linger in the air, and in that moment, it was as if I had awoken and become truly aware of what was around me. I had said something that couldn’t be taken back with such anger that it managed to shock even me, as well as my Father, who spoke with such a strange combination of desperation and pity._

_“Don’t you want a quiet life, Kyo?”_

_“No. I guess I don’t,” I said without thinking, trying to keep my determination in face of my Father._

_“Very well. Then all I can say is that I’m proud of you taking these first steps, son.”_

_I was finally finished packing, so I wheeled my suitcase out of my room and past him._

_“Maybe I just wished that we could continue the relationship we were supposed to have.”_

_I still couldn’t look back when he spoke as the room slowly faded to dark around me. There didn’t seem to be ground beneath my feet, and my sense of direction was completely gone._

_Where was I going?_

_I thought I was going this way, but somehow it felt like I was leaving something behind. Something important and dear to me._

_All I remember was feeling this rush of frustration. If he cared about me so much, why didn’t he try? Why did he hold back and stand on the sidelines in defeat like he always did?_

_There was crackling beneath my feet. My Father suddenly cried out in agony as his wheelchair sank into the nothing, and before I could lunge to save him, he fell into the abyss._

I woke up in a hot sweat, breathing so heavily that I could feel the nausea almost expanding and contracting in my stomach. It was still dark outside.

            I slammed my head against the pillow. Haruhiko was sleeping soundly next to me, and I tried to focus on his peaceful face in hopes of falling back to sleep.

            I was unsuccessful in doing so.

. . .

I didn’t talk to anyone in the morning. I could barely even touch my breakfast.

My Mother already knew I was dreading visiting my Father, so she had decided it was better not to converse with me. All I had done was ask her for the car, which she of course allowed me to drive.

Either Haruhiko understood that talking to me in this state wasn’t the best idea, or my Mother talked to him ahead of time. I felt awful for withholding affection from him—especially on our vacation time together—but the over looming doomed feeling was completely paralyzing.

As we got into the car together that afternoon, I finally spoke for the first time all day to Haruhiko.

“Haru, have I ever told you the story of how _The Kan_ came to be?”

            Haruhiko shook his head. “Not from you directly, but I’ve read and watched various interviews.”

            “Well, just forget anything I’ve told the reporters then,” I advised, looking out the window of the car as the hills I always passed by in my childhood rolled before my eyes.

. . .

I’m about to tell a long story of a man named Tomitake.

Tomitake knew from an early age that he was going to join his military family in the ranks. Despite being an advocate for peace and non-violence, his Lieutenant father had managed to rope his son into the Japanese Self-Defense Forces in an effort to uphold the five generations long tradition of volunteering for the military.

His father used to recount stories about how he had refused to enroll in the military when he was a young kid as well, especially due to his father—Tomitake’s grandfather—having involvement in World War II, which resulted in Tomitake’s father getting heavily bullied. Yet, his father would go on to say how, “it was (his) duty to make his family proud,” and how he had learned how to be proud of his military background with high hopes his son would follow.

Needless to say, the cycle continued, and Tomitake was especially bullied during grade school. Whenever the boys taking his shoes or stealing his books, they would ask Tomitake if he was going to be like his scary father, and he would try to say with pride that he was going to be like his father anyway—minus the scary part. Truthfully, Tomitake wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life, but he knew it wouldn’t be acceptable if he was anything but a soldier.

Lo and behold, by the time Tomitake turned 18, he found himself headed towards the Maritime sector. Tomitake was gaining more discipline, getting involved with training, and climbing the ranks. The tradition was continuing all according to plan.

However, amidst Tomitake’s success, he found himself becoming more and more unsatisfied with his life. It didn’t help that he found it hard to establish connections with his cohorts.

The truth was that what Tomitake enjoyed the most was cooking—especially baking. He wasn’t really sure if it was possible for him to make a career out of it. Not expecting his Father to accept this desire of his, Tomitake decided to keep this hobby a secret.

So between his scheduling shifting every 3 months, Tomitake somehow found the time to take cooking classes without his father knowing. It wasn’t long before Tomitake was recognized as a star student. His surprisingly handsome face and charisma was another huge draw for other people. He especially caught the eye of various women—despite his short height.

That was until, like the waves reaching into the shore and then pulling back into the ocean, Tomitake’s popularity was always short-lived once the other cooking students found out he was part of the JSDF.

At this point, Tomitake’s life could be described as quite lonely, but there was one person who unexpectedly stuck around.

Sayo was 20 years old when she met the then 35 year old Tomitake, but that didn’t stop her from pursuing him endlessly. Everyone told her she was crazy for running after a military man, but she persisted anyway. Sayo herself was a bright student who had just completed culinary school with big dreams of creating a café, and happened to be teaching during one of Tomitake’s free time periods.

Tomitake didn’t want to admit it, be he was enamored by Sayo. Initially, it took Tomitake a while to understand that his teacher was most definitely hitting on him, as even though she was so tall and elegant and he felt that she was way out of his league.

Then, it had evolved from Tomitake being ready to take up Sayo’s bold offer for a date, to suddenly turning around and declining it. He was due back at work at any moment, as his 3 months were about up, and he did not want to burden Sayo with a relationship. However, Sayo had stated that she didn’t care, and that she’d wait for him to come back.

Sayo kept her promise, and they were dating in between Tomitake’s breaks. Soon enough, Tomitake decided that he wanted to propose to Sayo. Sayo said yes, and her family was happy for her, although concerned due to Tomitake’s involvement with the military. Tomitake’s family was on board until Tomitake suggested leaving the military and supporting Sayo in what was to be their dream of having a café together.

Tomitake’s father had threatened disowning his son if he were to marry Sayo, claiming that she was putting all sorts of crazy ideas in his head. Their feud ended in an agreement that Tomitake would be able to marry Sayo, but he could not withdraw from the JSDF. In the end, Tomitake’s father did not show up to the wedding and had appeared all of once to visit his grandson as a newborn. They didn’t hear from him again until his death. Bound by the guilt of continuing the tradition, Tomitake kept serving time in the military.

Tomitake had tried so hard to provide for his newborn son and Sayo, but as time went on, he found himself home less and less. He was getting called into work way more often—even during his breaks at home. Sometimes, he would come to home to find that his son had grown several inches, or he had learned new words. Despite feeling inadequate, Tomitake still tried to do his part as a Father when he could to be the best role model he could be, whether it was taking his son to the museum, or telling him that those scribbles he drew were very impressive. Tomitake did try to get his son to bake with him, but he was more into the idea of eating desserts.

Sayo was doing her best to have patience and basically live as a single mother for months at a time while her friends were begging her to find a man who could give her attention. She had stayed faithful and focused her efforts on working at various cafes. Sayo refused to get a divorce, despite her husband’s suggestion, as she still loved him, but Tomitake could not help but feel he was letting his family down—especially because he could not be there for the times he felt his son needed him most growing up.

Even so, his son also retained much love and adoration for his father. To him, his father was smart, disciplined, athletic, handsome, kind, loving to him and his mother, and was everything a good father should be (when he was around). While he wasn’t planning on continuing the family tradition of joining the army, or even cared much about cooking, which his and mother and father were perfectly fine with, he still wanted to be just like his father. For him, when his father was around, everything as okay.  

If one were to look inside of his sketchbooks, it was filled with crude looking drawings of what appeared to be Tomitake with a chef hat he used to wear when he had spare time to bake with Sayo, along with the mustache he would keep for the rest of his life. This was the making of a manga that his son called _The Kan_ , because nobody was manlier to him than his father. He would even go so far as to draw the café his mother worked in. By age 6, he already knew he wanted to be a mangaka some day, and while Tomitake supported his son, he was concerned about that being another lonely and busy lifestyle—especially one that could potentially not provide financially.

Tomitake encouraged his son to keep drawing, and Sayo had allowed him to draw excessively—that was, until it turned out that his son was having difficulty following along in school. She had even scolded her son harshly for drawing instead of doing his schoolwork, and punching another kid. It had turned out that similarly to Tomitake’s childhood, his son was getting bullied for having a father in the JSDF. Various conferences with teachers went nowhere, and his son found himself more and more isolated in his own imaginary world where he was creating characters, and then his father was there as a protector in that world.

Tomitake was forced to retire by this time. An accident in training led to a spinal injury, leading to the utilization of a wheelchair. Finally, he was able to be around his family, but it was too late. His son was now in college, and Sayo was not home much, other than to run home and  help take care of her husband’s needs. Even so, Tomitake was alone once again.

So when his son was forced to come home from college after his school discovered his heavy drinking upon his hospitalization, Tomitake felt himself selfishly welcoming his son back. However, his son’s habits and mannerisms were quite concerning, and also familiar. Now that he was home, Tomitake noticed that his son often forgot to eat, slept either too much or too little, drank too much, did not take care of his physical needs, and socially isolated himself. If Tomitake could guess what was going on, his son was possibly having thoughts of suicide, being that he was expelled and had no hope for his future. Truthfully, Tomitake was no better than his son, but all he could try to do was catch up on their missed years together and comfort him when needed. 

Tomitake tried to encourage his son to take on a job, but nothing suited his son except one thing: becoming a mangaka. Even getting in with a publishing company was hard, as his son faced various rejections. It came to the point where he decided it was best to move to Tokyo for more opportunities, and that was the point where his Father had finally fought him on a decision.

_“Don’t you want a quiet life, Kyo?”_

It seemed that he, in fact, did not, as he was finally ready to pursue the career that put a sparkle in his eyes like nothing else could. Tomitake realized after a while that he couldn’t stop his son and forced himself to let go, saying he was proud his son was going to do what he wanted with his life. Of course, that was true, but Tomitake truthfully still wanted his son around.

Sayo could do nothing but show her support behind the sidelines, even though she was reluctant to let her son go, as well. She had also finally quit her job to take care of her husband full time, as his health was declining as the chronic pain became too much.

By this time, Tomitake had completely isolated himself and had lost all his energy to answer the phone when his son called to try and check up on him from time to time. His son was gradually giving up any hope of making his Father happy, and after a while, decided that he was disowned despite Sayo’s pleas to understand that his father was not himself.

            It wasn’t until Tomitake’s son had finally started serialization of his first manga that he discovered a missed call, just as he was ready to tell his parents exciting news about the project he had been waiting to work on.

            His father had died from an apparent overdose of painkillers. To this day, it is unknown whether that was done with purposeful intentions or not. As painful as it was to admit it, his son knew the truth deep down, but it was too much to dwell on or think about, as  the reasoning behind the previous events suddenly came together for him.

            What became of Ijuiin Kyo, in the end? Most of the answer is already known: he struggled with various titles and found himself on the brink of quitting many times, only to find strength in the fan letters that urged him to keep going—even throughout the moments where he felt a mental breakdown coming on, or that he was going to collapse from exhaustion. What more could he do than that? His drive was gone—it was long dead now and buried in his hometown, and unable to console him when he needed it most. Yet Kyo knew that he needed to keep going not just for his own sake, but because he didn’t want this to be all this sweat and blood for nothing.

            After sometime, Kyo returned home for inspiration. At that point, he had not visited home since his Father’s funeral, and had still refused to visit his grave, as it would only be another reminder that his Father was not only gone, but he had forcibly removed himself. During an argument with his mother, Kyo had ran into his room and occupied his thoughts by digging through his closet where he found the old sketches containing _The Kan_.

As he read through it, Kyo had remembered all the time and effort he put into all these character sketches and manga arcs as a child. Fictional or reality, the lingering image of his Father being the manliest and most loving had never faded, regardless of their hardship together. Kyo didn’t want to recount this story to the press that wanted to know how _The Kan_ came into creation, as it meant reliving these memories he wanted to leave behind when he moved, but lo and behold, this was how it all started.

. . .

            The sunflowers Haruhiko had given to my Mother were laid down near the tombstone and beside it, a copy of _The Kan_.

            The entire time, Haruhiko had not taken his eyes off of me, I noticed, but I could not look back, as when I had recited the story, there were tears forming in his eyes.

            “I’m sorry I’ve never told you. I just...never really liked talking about it,” I finally said, then added a slight chuckle, “Well, you did say you wanted to be more involved in my life, and I figured the best way to do it would be to take you to the one place I didn’t want to come back to.”

            Haruhiko didn’t say a word.

            Somehow it felt easier to smile in face of what was before me. “You know, this is the first time I’ve seen his grave. It’s easier coming here with you, but in a way, it hurts more, because I know he would’ve loved to meet you—even if he was still mad at me for being selfish and leaving when he needed me most.”

            Haruhiko continued to stay silent, but instead moved forward and pulled me into a hug. “Kyo-san… You know you’re allowed to cry, right?”

            I couldn’t find the energy to hug him back, or feel ready to cry, so I stood there until he finally moved away.

            “It’s odd. For the longest time, I assumed everyone’s family was like mine—cold and unsure how to properly love. I had only wanted to push them away. My Mother was a mistress, and while she may not have been the most understanding towards me, or…had never made any home cooked meals, I was still at a loss when she was gone. It was even worse when I had been suddenly owned by my Father, who for many years originally wanted nothing to do with me. In ways, I know he’s trying to make up for lost time as well, but there are moments where I can’t help but resent him. For a long time, I thought this was normal behavior, as a person constantly seeking approval from my family,” said Haruhiko.

            Truthfully, I hadn’t even known Haruhiko’s mother had died and was a mistress. The only thing I really knew was that Haruhiko and Akihiko were half brothers. In a way, I had almost felt guilty for not knowing Haruhiko in this way, because I only assumed it was a touchy subject that he didn’t want to talk about.

            “I had become friends with Isaka-san and Asahina as a child, but I didn’t truly get to know their families until I moved into the Usami household. Then I understood how different families could be, and they seemed so caring and involved in each other’s lives. At that point, the idea had made way into my head that in order to know a person, I must know every detail of that person to truly appreciate them—as I clearly did know my family well enough, and they did not seem to want to know me in return. That seemed to be the barrier between us having a real relationship,” he continued to explain.

            I thought briefly of my Father. A lot of what I learned about my Father actually came from word of mouth from my Mother before and after his death. Yet, it still didn’t change my experience, or my love for him—even when I was angry at him for trying to make me stay.

            “I suppose what I’m trying to say is, I can’t understand what it’s like to lose someone to suicide, or to lose that kind of love. However, I can tell from everything I’ve learned up until now that your Father loved you very much, and that even though he was so sick, and he would still be proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. I think he would be very happy to know where you are now in life.”

            In a matter of seconds, I had finally allowed the choked sobs to be released, slowly breaking down while Haruhiko had wrapped his arms around me again, hugging me tightly as for the first time in years, tears fell. I was holding on to Haruhiko as if my life depended on it, basking in the silence Haruhiko gave me until I couldn’t cry anymore. The numbing feeling in my emotions finally dissolved completely, and somehow, him seeing my utmost vulnerability made my love for him deepen even more.  

            We ended up staying like this for a good amount of time. About a couple of hours passed before sending farewell prayers to my Father. We had even sat down at his grave, and for once, telling Haruhiko memories of the man named Ijuiin Tomitake felt good.

. . .

            Mother made nikujaga for dinner—another one of my favorite recipes.

            My stomach rumbled once the smell of meat and potatoes hit me, and Haruhiko was already eagerly heading towards the table once we got back.

            We sat down together and made our bowls. There was silence between us as we ate, until my Mother suddenly stopped eating and pushed her bowl to the side as if she had been preparing the whole time we were gone to say something.

“You know, I look back, and I realize I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” said my Mother, “I’m made a lot of mistakes as a mother especially, and as a wife. I was way too young and in over my head, and I tried so hard to make everything work. I’m still trying, in fact, every day. In all truth, it’s lonely here, especially…without your Father, but it’s what I know. I’ve even tried moving his pictures in the attic so I wouldn’t be reminded of him, but it doesn’t help.”

Haruhiko and I had already stopped eating at this point as we listened to her.

“I may not look like it, but I’m getting old. Soon enough, I won’t be able to work at the bakery anymore. When that day comes, maybe I’ll be ready to move on from this house.” She smiled sadly. “It’s just so hard to leave these memories behind—even the bad ones. And I know asking you to move here would be unfair of me, so I’ll let that discussion go.”

            Her expression darkened. “However, I think you need to understand that I have the right to worry like I do. There’s a lot I’m still worried about with you, Kyo. I know you still struggle with taking care of yourself, and I know that there’s more to it than that, just like your Father”—

            She paused and took a deep breath. “You at least know what I’m asking you to do, right?”

            I nodded. “Yes.”

            My Mother looked over to Haruhiko suddenly. “Haruhiko, this may be selfish of me to ask, but please watch over my son—even when that day comes where I can finally move on.”

            “You don’t have to ask that of me. I would like to, anyway,” he said with an air of humility.  

            There were tears in her eyes that she quickly blinked away. “Thank you. Thank you so much. It’s just…” A few stray drops rolled down her cheek. “I know it’s what your Father would’ve wanted, too.”

            I rub her shoulder gently for a moment, and wait until we’re comfortable enough to attempt to finish our dinner again.

. . .

            We retired for the night soon after dinner, as Haruhiko and I were likely mentally and emotionally exhausted.

            Mother had taken her leave for the night, as she was called into work at last minute to help prepare dough at the bakery for the next day.

            The front door closed just as we fell against the mattress. On cue, our exhaustion suddenly subsided and traded in for the raw sexual energy that had been pent up inside of us for what seemed like an eternity. I should’ve fallen right to sleep, as I had gotten such terrible rest the night before, but I was somehow wide awake, once I was aware of our circumstance.

            My hand was running through his soft strands of hair, and his hand was on my waist. We inched closer and I was kissing him in a matter of seconds, quickly taking advantage of my adrenaline high to roll on top of Haruhiko as we kissed with more urgency, my tongue clashing with his.

            We separated for air and stared at each other wordlessly, until I finally dove in for more action and started kissing down his neck.

            “Kyo-san,” he moaned in between words, “I’m not sure why, but I think I’m ready.”

            “Good,” I said, pecking him sweetly on the lips, “Because I wasn’t planning on stopping.”

. . .

            Before we knew it, it was time to board our plane. There seemed to be no time to indulge in the morning after glow of sex, as we ended up waking a bit too late than we would have liked. All we could do was pack our bags, prepare a quick meal of toast, and call a cab to take us to the airport.

            My Mother managed to meet us at the airport in time to say goodbye. We embraced for what seemed like five minutes.

            “Please visit your old Mother again sometime soon, okay?”

            “I’ll try,” I promised, still hugging her tightly for another few seconds until finally letting go.

            She then faced Haruhiko and opened her arms wide, gradually moving closer towards him.

Haruhiko didn’t budge, as if he was unsure of whether to return the gesture or not.

            My Mother pouted. “Come now—I would like to hug my son-in-law!”

            “Son-in-law?” I repeated lowly. It didn’t seem that Haruhiko had heard her, as my Mother had already pulled him into a hug. I tried not to laugh, as he was so startled by my Mother’s sudden affection that he just seemed lifeless in her arms.

            They called our flight number. My mother waved us off in the distance as we waited on line. I waved back as Haruhiko appeared to be in a daze.

            “You alright, Haru?” I asked him.

            He seemed to be momentarily pulled out of whatever he was pondering about. “Hm?”

            “I said, is everything okay?”

            “Oh.” He looked away shyly. “I was just thinking about how nice your Mother is.”

            I thought back to our conversation the day before. Haruhiko didn’t seem to have the easiest relationship with his mother, and I hadn’t realized what a shock it was for him to see how my Mother and I talked to each other.

            Even though my Mother and I were sometimes on rocky terms with each other, we still had a strong bond, and it didn’t take until this trip happened to appreciate that. Maybe she wasn’t always the best to me growing up, but she was acting as a single mother doing everything she could for me. She only wanted me to be happy, and meeting Haruhiko and seeing how happy he made me seemed to have made her overjoyed, in turn.

“That’s my Mother, for ya. She already considers you family, you know.”

            “Really?” Haruhiko smiled serenely. “Then, I would hope to visit again someday.”

            As I was ready to put my arm around Haruhiko, my phone buzzed. Kimura was trying to call me.

            “That’s weird. He knows I’m off today,” I muttered.

            “Kyo-san, we’re about to get on the plane. I don’t think you should answer that,” Haruhiko advised, also holding out his cell phone. “Work is calling me as well, but I’m not going to respond until our flight is finished.”

            And of course, that was the perfect excuse to shut down my phone.

. . .

            As soon as we got on the plane, everything had returned to normal—or at least, as normal as it could get. We were making casual conversation, talking about our current projects and manga we were reading in our spare time, with tidbits of flirting here and there on my part that had caused Haruhiko to blush and remind me in a hushed voice that other people could hear us.

            “You know, you should tell me at some point when that catering hall is gonna be done so I can check it out,” I said.

            “Hopefully, we’re getting a date on that soon, but you’ll be the first to know,” Haruhiko answered. “By the way, we’ll likely have a grand opening ceremony, and you’re welcome to invite your Mother.”

            I nodded. “Sure. I bet she’d love to.”

            I then gradually lowered my head so that it was resting between his jaw and his shoulder, nuzzling into it and taking my time to get comfortable in this position.

            Haruhiko was trying, and failing to pretend like nothing was happening, his gaze averted elsewhere.

            “Come on now, Haru, you’re not embarrassed of me, are you?” I purred into his ear, causing him to flinch.

            “N-no, never!” He was face was a vibrant red. “You’re just very…affectionate today is all.”

            I refused to remove my head from his shoulder. “Well, maybe it’s because I’m not going to see my adorable lover for a bit once Hell week starts back up.”

            “That’s fair…” Haruhiko seemed sad suddenly. “Truthfully, I may be receiving a call about an incoming project. I’m not sure of the context yet, but I’ve already been assigned to it—if the project goes through. I’m not sure how much of my time will be devoted to it.”

            I lifted my head and caressed his cheek gently. “Let’s make the most of our time left then, okay? All the sad stuff is over now.”

            He nodded in agreement. “Alright.”

            “Then again, I’m not sure if we can exactly top last night,” I said with a smirk, “That is, unless you’re willing to try again”—

            And with those words, Haruhiko was a blushing mess for the rest of the trip—as if he suddenly dawned onto him everything we had done. He was so stunned that he couldn’t refuse me sleeping on his shoulder for the remainder of the flight.

. . .

            When we had gotten off the plane, the first thing Haruhiko did was check to see if there were any voicemails. “Excuse me, it looks like there’s a call I need to take,” he said to me as he ventured off to the side of the airport.

I decided to turn my phone back on while Haruhiko took care of his phone call. There were 6 voicemails. Before I had time to listen to any of them, my phone started ringing again.

“Hello, you’ve reached Ijuiin Kyo”—

            “Sensei, I’ve been trying to call you all day!”

            “Kimura, what is it? You know I’m still on vacation,” I growled more impatiently than I would’ve liked.

            “I’m sorry, I know you’re away, but I just had to tell you the good news!”

            _‘Good news?’_ I asked myself, _‘Maybe he’s talking about that collaboration project I’ve been wanting to do?’_ “Well, okay. Go on, I guess.”

            “Remember that pitch for the live action of _The Kan_? It finally went through!”

I felt my heart stop. Nothing about this news was good. I could already imagine my last bit of free time slipping away.

            “Kimura, just stop talking for one second. Since when are we doing a live action?

Kimura seemed to ignore my question. “I know there was that problem with set creation, which is why we never did it in the first place, but we managed to pick up a really good architect to help us out with it.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “No, we didn’t agree on it because I never wanted to do this in the first place. Do you have any idea how exhausting the consultation for that is gonna be for me? Why on Earth would I ever want to”—

            At that moment, Haruhiko came rushing back to me after his phone call ended. Whatever it was about, even though there was no smile on his face, he was beaming. He was so excited that he had interrupted my call and grabbed my hand eagerly—and gladly so, as I was ready to have a panic attack if I heard Kimura say another word.

“Kyo-san, they’re asking me to work on creating a live action set—and it’s for _The Kan_. Congratulations.”

             Kimura was clearly saying stuff on the other line, but I couldn’t hear anything amidst the excitement buzzing in my brain. Instead, I took a brief moment to use my free hand so I could pull Haruhiko in for a passionate kiss—not even caring that we were still in the middle of the airport as Haruhiko managed to match my ferocity.

            “…On second thought, Kimura, this is a very good arrangement. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

** A/N: ** **Thank you all for being so patient! This is the biggest update I’ve done. I still have the smut content coming your way, but I just need more time to complete that, so keep your eyes peeled.**

**In the meantime, please feast your eyes on some art by Squidalicious, formerly known as DandereDaisy!**

**h t t p s : / / s q u i d – a – l i c i o u s . t u m b l r . c o m / p o s t / 1 6 9 2 4 3 6 3 2 6 3 7 / s q u i d – a – l i c i o u s – i j u u i n h a r uh i k o – a k a – t h e**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all to who have read this! Please keep in mind this is post-anime, and anything bold and italicized is supposed to imitate one of those screens where an important reflection comes up that a character is thinking about.


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